Finding New Meaning in the Familiar

----------------------------------------------

Cindy Adcock

 

Macey-dog and I were approaching

the usual group of middle school students

waiting for their bus to arrive

waiting for us to draw near

waiting with the familiar clamor of enthusiastic voices

     “so pretty…

     “her name…

     “is she…

     “look at…

     “black…

     “does she…

     “beautiful…

     “Macey, you’re cool…

 

Waiting for their bus to arrive

Waiting for use to draw near

Waiting with an unfamiliar jumble of painful memories

     “I wish my dog still lived with me…

     “she was the best…

     “I miss him…

     “he  was cool…

     “she slept on my bed…

     “I only see him once a week…

     “she was my friend…

     “but when they split up, my dog went with him…

     “I live with my Dad, but she kept our dog…

     “they weren’t thinking about how I’d feel…

It was the first time, I swear,

That they had ever shared their pain of childhood divorce.

 

Except one boy, dog-less no doubt, sidled up to me and whispered

     “I have to repeat seventh grade because I don’t know how to read.”

It was the first time, I swear,

That he had even shared his shame of failure.

 

And when I remember their pain, his shame, I want, I swear, to cry.

 

What Can I Do?

 ----------------------------------------------

Cathi Arcuri

 

Van-accessible parking space for me, what a journey that set me on.

What can I do?

That lonely tree is permanently parked right next to the accessible parking space.

What can I do?

Too many roots to plant anything, watching the weeds get higher and higher at every exit of my van.

Every time I saw that lonely tree all by itself, with no one to love or notice that a tree was even there.

With its beautiful canopy that protects me when I enter and exit my van.

What can I do?

Then I saw a post about a rock garden. Ah, that is what that tree needed.

That’s what I can do.

That is how the Art Rock Garden under the Kindness Tree on South Main Street began.

Share Kindness Always:)

 

“Don’t Give Up”, 2026

----------------------------------

Willis Beck

 

“Don’t Give Up” is my message this year:

     I’ll say it again while I have your ear.

You’ve come so far, don’t drop the ball;

     Life’s treasure awaits, don’t lose it all.

 

Eat well, sleep well, do exercise;

     Praise God for good health and sunny skies.

Greet your neighbors, love your friends,

     Approach your foes, to make amends.

 

God has blessed me with ninety years plus;

     Children, grands, greats, great-greats would fill a bus!

I have seen so much and done it all well,

     I remember most of it, clear as a bell!

 

Don’t Give Up” I’ll say it one more;

     Remember my plea as you approach the door.

 

 How does one declutter a life?

---------------------------------- Honorable Mention 

Catherine Cassara

 

My father had to pick up the pieces of his brother’s life

dealt with a closet full of toilet paper, a bucket of nail clippers, and taxes for years

Ten years later my sister is still unraveling the threads and picking up pieces of our parents’ lives

A friend still crosses the ocean several times a year to work on untangling her mother’s life, thinning out the possessions, and unraveling her love’s life, piece by piece

 

So I could not then leave an overflowing home for fr my niece to deal with?

Half a country away, how could she deal with thousands of books, a basement full of all sorts, and closets full of the ephemera of my life

It made so much sense to take on the task myself, a gift my family might never know I tackled for them

Not that I expect them to be faced with the chore tomorrow, but the very unknowing matters

 

Cookbooks unused with the advent of the web, were easy to shed

The army of tired, sad, dusty tomes have gone the way of the bookcases that housed them

Precious books the scaffolding of my life, at work and at home, were a heavy burden but once the boxes were formed and filled, momentum took over

Cloth I never actually sewed was easily gifted away, clothes from the dog who needed them took several years to find new homes, but they have

The dishes that I have never used that fill china cabinets I never needed, are still a task ahead

 

But now I am frozen

On the bottom shelves of bookcases, on the bottom of the boxes of things that mattered in closets, in tubs in the basement, I found more pictures than I can count or know how to deal with

Easy to say if I don’t look at them I don’t need them

but the pictures take me to places in my life that are not so easy to shed, there are no organizing structures, no labels, no illusions that anyone beyond me would care about or need them

But they take me to places and times that are hard to leave behind and they take me places no one else can go

 

I always planned to return

----------------------------------

Catherine Cassara

 

It hangs on the fridge

A peaceful picture of the other place

Where my heart returns

Bougainvillea green and purple on the wall

A home filled with people

People I love, people I always planned to see again

Now the picture hangs on the fridge

Near another of two who live there and love

I left, always planning to return

But life had other plans

But now I realize North Africa is only half a world away

And I can still return

Not how and when I thought I would, but still possible

 

Second Glances

----------------------------------

Lisa C. Chavers

 

Wait a minute! What did I just see over there??

Let me take a second look,

That is not cheating. It is only fair!

 

Did I see what I think I saw?

Let me shift my angle and look again;

That’s acceptable in this case, it is not sin.

 

Though sometimes it is best to leave well enough alone

Or else, a second glance will get me caught in some unnecessary stuff.

 

Once, Jesus had a two-part healing experience with a blind man (Mark 8:24)

He touched him once and then he touched him once again.

The first time, the blink man glanced and se men walking as trees

The second time his vision was fully restored! He was thankful and was deeply pleased!

 

Personally, second glances can confirm a questionable matter.

At first glance may be puzzling and cause thoughts to scatter.

 

Pause a moment! What did I just see over there?

Was the object long, circular or square?

It is something beautiful, unique, captivating, and rare!

I will try my very best not to stare.

But I will cast a second curious glare.

 

OH TAKE ME HOME!!

----------------------------------

Melissa Collingwood

 

Oh take me home

To where I belong,

Oceans, Cities, and Mountains, too

Great Bear Coffee and friends like you.

 

A day in Carmel

With the trees so distant

A Pathway to Dolores

The shops line the streets.

 

Let’s go to Tiburon and eat at Sam’s

Will sit outside among the birds

San Francisco in the distance

Where my Heart comes home

 

The Golden Mountain side and Sunny Skies

As nighttime comes the Bay brings chills

The moon is bright as it rises

Oh please take me home for the thrills

 

We will go to San Francisco, it is not too far

Will park and take the cable car

Painted Ladies on a slant, and the slow

Drive down a crooked street.

 

The Golden Gate so regal and strong

Sways and connects the land where I belong

Marin & Bonlinas, Belvedere & Mill Valley

These are the Towns I grew up with, my galley.

 

I worked in the Valley and learned all the tech.

Silicon Chips and coding to do

Computers to create and Software to check

Working on Campus at Apple too

 

 

Los Gatos my home in the hills I so love

Looking over the city so high above

Winding my way to Santa Cruz

On Highway 17, oh look at the views.

 

The Whales how they frolic from unto the sea

They’re waiting for me, the Humpbacks you see

Breaching and diving so elegantly

The Gentle Giants of the sea.

 

Oh please take me home,

To the place where I belong…

45 Year Old Paper

----------------------------------Runner Up 

Joseph DeMare

 

A pink and black cardboard box

once filled with wine

wrapped with shiny plastic tape

corners crumpled from many moves

 

Now filled with 45 year old papers.

 

A mix of taxes and folders

Comics and music books and

 

Literary magazines made by my friends

and me.  Yellowed newsprint filled

with poetry, pretty photography, and hope.

 

With names like “Orpheus” and “Nexus”

Their words leap off the page at me

Freed from 45 years of sleeping

 

My own Eurydice

Wasted away years ago

by her own cells gone awry

Whispers to me again of

“red cream soda kisses” and

how she prefers

“jam on bread to paper.”

 

Mesmermorial

----------------------------------

Joseph DeMare

 

It was the place where she sat,

watching.

Comfortable recliner,

beige corduroy, buried under colorful blankets and quilts

crushed by her slight weight

after years of watching, staring

occasionally smiling, rarely laughing.

 

As the never ending parade of made up faces

streamed past and over her

talking about the weather

floods, famine, wars, sex, and selling

little plastic animals with googly eyes

whose black plastic irises

rolled back and forth whenever

she opened the refrigerator door

to get some ham or turkey

sliced thin, stuffed with chemicals

to sustain her so she could

return to her sagging recliner

and resume watching,

as the years streamed past

 

Life is good…

----------------------------------

Susan Eisenbrandt

 

Life is good.

Life is bad.

Life makes us who we are.

Life make us remember who we were.

Life reminds us on who we can be

Life honors our past and also our dreams

Life-the good, bad, ugly and happiness

Life ends up into the belief of all aspects of life.

 

I saw a rainbow

----------------------------------

Susan Eisenbrandt

 

 

I saw a rainbow. Thought about the

       pot of gold at the end.

I saw a rainbow and made a wish

       of blessings to all instead of the

       pot of gold.

I saw a rainbow and thought about

       all the colors and the meanings of

       each color.

I saw a rainbow and put my dreams

       and wishes into each color.

I saw a rainbow which each color put into

       dreams, hope and happiness to all.

I saw a rainbow

 

Do You Want to Glow?

----------------------------------

Barbara Gould

 

Whats old is new and Whats new is old

Confusing thoughts from Prophets are often told

 

But even though we are old, we meet someone

and to them we are like a flower

New friends bring new joys and often a

                   new set of values, its not dour

 

These new friends heighten our awareness of life

and often make us familiar with old buried

                   happiness, not strife

 

But often we still need the spark

that familiar friends and memories give us,

                   its not dark

 

Never bury the treasured happy times

with new and exciting climbs

 

Maybe we need to take a break and dwell

on some of the most momentous events like

                   graduations, weddings, vacations that ring a bell

 

Yes, we’re sparking good thoughts and show

that these happy events make us glow.

 

Puffins Are Fun Birds

----------------------------------

Barbara Gould

 

Whats that bird? He look so great

It’s so cold, is freezing its fate?

 

No I’m proud to say, That’s a Puffin

It’s sleeping, so he looks like a muffin

 

There’s more fun stuff to tell

Like they fly to find some food

A colorful fish to them is good

 

Just think, on a bright sunny day

Puffins always take time to play

 

Even though its so icy cold

They chase around, but stay with the fold

 

You may ask. Where do they build their nest?

Usually a flat rock is best.

 

The flock life in the snow

But they fly wherever they want to go

 

A hungry bird will fly and fly

To catch a fish swimming by

 

Then diving down, like a rocket

The fish is dinner in his pocket

 

We see why he has a huge beak

He’s hiding his food in his cheek

 

You may ask. Who feeds the babies

                   when they cry?

Mom and Dad team up and both try,

To spear that fish swimming by.

 

Ten Months Later 1  Winning Poems 

----------------------------------

Geoff Howes

 

still sitting by a bookcase in the back room

that Record Store Day tote bag

with green and red grooves

 

inside it a Funko Pop Space Ghost

a Mattel John Centa figurine

 

a small black plastic bag of
Christmas and birthday cards

mostly from your mother

 

some polaroids of a onetime couple

two or three old wedding invitations

a little damroo drum, red and green and yellow

 

the Lucky Peach Chicken Issue

the Batman Returns 30^th anniversary issue

a Diesel Sweeties treasury

 

propped next to the tote

a large white envelope

from Job and Family Services

containing a Medicaid self-employment ledger

unfilled out

  

Ten Months later 2

----------------------------------

Geoff Howes  

 

your life is like

a velvetleaf plant

with bud flowers

and dried pods

all visible

on one stem.

 

I Never Thought…

----------------------------------

Dan Mellen

 

I never thought, I’d end up here,

Growing up in Illinois,

The map in my head pointed. elsewhere,

The future unclear and far away.

 

Love brought me here,

To a place I never planned,

And when the moment came to leave,

I stayed.

Not out of fear but because my life had roots now.

 

Time has marked me.

I am older. Cancer has possessed my body and left it lessons behind.

So I keep busy-

With “The Center”,

With my arts,

With my faith.

 

My love is still beside me.

That alone feels like grace.

After all the miles, the years, the tests-

I must be doing something right.

 

Divine Transformation

----------------------------------Honorable Mention 

Dan Mellen

 

 

There once was a man from Bowling Green.

Who was REALLY REALLY MEAN.

One night he lost an awful fight.

Now he follow the HOLY LIGHT.

 

Life’s Carousel

----------------------------------

Sheila Meyer

 

 

Revolving under the bright blue sky

Shiny horses painted as regal rides

Proud and gallantly sit I

Unaware, of the world’s changing tides

 

As years evolve, and times they change

It seems those horses, surely know

Life is left to rearrange

That child, that sat with happy glow

 

The ride is slowing, afterall these years

That child has grown, and life goes on

Through life’s journey, of laughter and tears

 

The carousel, has stopped at dawn.

 

Rag-A-Muffin

----------------------------------

Sheila Meyer

 

 

She came to me, a shy little miss

Afraid of the world, and every second

Wondering myself, “Can I fix this?”

Adapting my life, in the all around

 

Seems that she had been cast out

Never to enjoy the puppy life for certain

Determination was what I was about

Her little life, not the final curtain.

 

She gets the queen treatment I guarantee

That pup has truly stolen my heart

Now her happiness is left to me

She remains right here, never to part

 

Awakening

----------------------------------

Kristina Nelson

 

An unexpected moment in time, gave us a gift,

As the last young adult prepared, leaving into the world fast and swift.

Childhood years buzzed with care, worry, and all that Mom and Dads do,

Suddenly there were no shouts, fights, slamming doors, or trips to the zoo.

 

Instead of feeling lost as some parents do,

The empty next was not a sourful end to stew.

The existence of marriage, habitually neglected,

Epiphany stunned us, and the truth connected.

 

Wrongly assuming marriage donned an active shelf life.

We hit the ground running, recharged as husband and wife.

Rebooting every hour, every day, of everything ordinary.

Adventuring, appreciating fully, life became extraordinary.

 

Instantly, with zip back in our sap, relishing moments of being.

How did we ever let busyness keep us from seeing?

Newly unfolding each beautiful day,

Intro unforgettable minutes, no longer wasted away

 

Instead of feeling lost as some parents do,

The empty next was not a sourful end to stew.

The existence of marriage, habitually neglected,

Epiphany stunned us, and the truth connected.

 

Wrongly assuming marriage donned an active shelf life.

We hit the ground running, recharged as husband and wife.

Rebooting every hour, every day, of everything ordinary.

Adventuring, appreciating fully, life became extraordinary.

 

Instantly, with zip back in our sap, relishing moments of being.

How did we ever let busyness keep us from seeing?

Newly unfolding each beautiful day,

Intro unforgettable minutes, no longer wasted away

 

Now I glance, and glance around again, in life’s final years.”

----------------------------------

David J. Neuendorff

 

 

There was a time, now so very long ago.

When just a glance stirred a primordial soul.

Was it a pretty smile, or an interesting face?

That turn of a head, that one’s fancies graced.

 

Then even the sense of an new adventure possible,

Would redirect my journey down that interesting path.

A thought, a dream appearing during a fitful slumber,

Stirred the imagination of life’s promises, yet fulfilled.

 

That glance at a possibility, sought once it appeared.

A glance and the flirtatious dance that then ensued.

In my youth, and vigor, not yet chastened by experience.

Full of promise, but only fulfilled if ardently pursued.

 

And now one remembers, the energy and sensations fondly,

Though the energy to proceed with abandon, has vaporized.

And though a second glance, yet occasionally, still appears,

Primordial thoughts and desires are now all left unrealized.

 

The Belt of Venus

----------------------------------

Stephen Petersen

 

He spins 180° and isn’t disappointed.

He talks about it to his friends but sounds a bit disjointed.

“Look there,” he cries, “beneath the orange and peach.

The gray band grows as sunset flows.

With clouds it’s out of reach!”

For him flat-earthers have become the object of great mirth,

Because the Belt of Venus is the shadow of Earth.

 

My Porch Swing

----------------------------------Honorable Mention 

Stephen Petersen

 

As I kick back, my porch swing swings.

I gaze around at everything.

Since spring draws near, I smell the earth.

I breathe it in for all I’m worth.

This false spring fools a willing fool.

 

The city crush is far behind.

There’s nothing left to try my mind.

I breath in sweetly. Deep and slow.

And far away my worries go.

The swing swings on as my thought flow

As I swing gently to and fro.

 

Swaying gently, to and fro,

I watch the sunset’s orangey glow.

The birds give feeders one last fling.

As pale blue shades bring evening.

I push once more, rock to and fro

And wander where my thought may go.

 

My Favorite Place

---------------------------------- Honorable Mention 

Carole Rinehart

 

It was like a dream, sitting on the deck of my waterfront cottage

at the lake, blissfully alone, loving the peace and quiet. On the weekend, though,

I was blessed to have the company of children, grandchildren, friends and

neighbors, enjoying the cottage and all the toys. We had boats and jet skis,

tree swings, a hot tub and more.

 

Through the years, as the toys deteriorated, they were not replaced, because

Grandchildren grew up and moved away, friends went to nursing homes or passed

away and visits to the cottage became less and less.

 

My last visit this fall was a wakeup call. There were overgrown weeds, bees

Swarming, a deck that needed painting, and for the first time in twenty five

years, a mouse.

 

I will soon put a for sale sign on my favorite place, and it will become

a younger person’s dream.

  

THE QUARTERBACK STANDS ALONE

----------------------------------

Carole Reinhart

 

An injured quarterback. A freshman stepped up. Broke a record for passing,

gained yardage as a keeper. Ran for touchdowns. Small colleges talking, bigger colleges watching.

Now a sophomore, one loss, two wins. The quarterback stands alone,

congratulated on a victory, passes caught, yardage gained, runs for

touchdowns.

 

But not tonight. Tonight a pass was intercepted. Tonight a pass is too low.

Tonight a keeper barely gains a few yards. Go in at half time with a one

point lead. Come out against a fired up team.

 

Eleven on defense can’t hold them. Ten on offense can’t make a space for the

quarterback to pass or run. Plays called just don’t work.

 

Tonight the quarterback stands alone. The wins are largely credited to him,

so of course a loss is charged against him. He is devastated.

 

Still, he came out to greet his family and stood tall.

He is a sixteen year old quarterback.

 

Haiku Poems

----------------------------------

Clarissa Reinherd-Zender

 

 

Spring Time

 

The Bees are buzzing

Flowers blooming everywhere

With sunshine and rain

 

 

The Hunted

 

Graceful leaps the deer

With the sound of guns nearby-

Running from hunters

 

 

Change of Seasons

 

The leaves are falling

Geese are flying toward the south-

Soon will be winter

 

Jerusalem

----------------------------------

David Vaughn

Who is looking at your life to say ‘this you should have done not that

Your happiness was mine to give but you must meet criteria?’

The voice that drives you in concern to bow and scrape before the King

Is the sceptre you first kissed when you despaired of freedom.

And Freedom has based from this realm to fight for Old Jerusalem

Not for any purpose else but to fight for its lost Kingdom in the past.

To know a thing as surely as it can be known

Is to have an acre in your name somewhere in the world

where no king goes and no priest passes.

If this does not suffice for happiness then to dies for some crusade no matter how unworthy

Will surely be the best that you can do.

While your children will be playing in the field careless of the father’s fallen glory.

No one can stay where they are.

No one can build a wall around a moment.

All that you have you have derivatively,

And while the child wants to be happy, the adult wants to be right-

The stories of your house have naught but broken stairs.

But your hope lies still in this- the child wants to be happy.

The adult must learn to make repairs.

And you are not the Child and you are not the Adult.

You are the adult-child and the child-adult

And your purpose here is to be defeated again and again,

Carried from the field of battle until the light begins to dawn somewhere in your darkened vision.

 

Autumn Run

----------------------------------

David Vaughn

Feet being led over the autumn ground, the will pounding, pounding in my feet.

first leaves decaying, first joy going underneath the ground.

The grass is green but dying.

The day is warm and humid.

I sense through the pounding of the blood, fresh blood in my veins,

a new awakening.

Joy is being purified perfectly,

Impurity pushed out in the tears of sweat.

Unhappiness has retired from the effort to a cloistered corner of the mind

Where it reads an unloved book of poetry.

It will not haunt my weariness today.

And now the last mile beginning.

There awaits only the puzzled piece of glass pointing upward-

I am driving onward to our rendezvous.

Then it slips through the rubber sole and meets my foot.

Suddenly screams the chorus of pain:

Then blood begins to flow slowly, filling up my shoe, but slowly, and then slowly stops.

I pull the piece of glass from my shoe, then try to run, then stop,

then walk the last mile to the gym leaving little stains of blood upon the ground

and thinking, “This, too, I knew would happen.”

 

The Backward Look Says It All

----------------------------------

Karen Wood

 

When you see a woman of a Certain Age, know that her grandmother was born in a year when women could not vote in the U.S.A.

When you note a Woman of a Certain Age, remember that her high school did not offer girl’s sports and she could not wear pants to school.

When you observe a Woman of a Certain Age, realize that it’s true she could rob a bank and no one would be able to identify the white-haired, non-descript granny.

When you see a Woman of a Certain Age, understand that when the “Me Too” Movement hit the news, she had a personal story to tell but no one cared to listen.

And finally, when you see a Woman of a Certain Age, take a second glance, because what you are looking at is a Woman of a Certain Rage.

 

A FURTHER LOOK

----------------------------------

R.E. Yanik

 

A peaceful person is one who is prudent, has compassion and care for others, and

Is respected, admired and befriended.

A peaceful person is humble, moral, ethical, dignified, reasonable, and

Makes positive worthy choices.

A peaceful person recognizes those in need and extends a helping hand.

A peaceful person imspires, forgives, understands and

Prays for the well-being and good health of others.

A peaceful person is moderate, serene, noncombative, and

An observer of law and order.

At second glance,

He or she is someone with no puffery, no boasting,

no lying, no exaggeration or self dealing.

He or she is someone who does not seek retribution or

Use inflammatory rhetoric or make derogatory comments directed

At other people, organizations or countries of the world.

He or she is not hostile, militant, or aggressive.

A peaceful person is a model for inspiration, and

is to be admired and cherished by humankind. 

 

ALLURE: HOW IT STARTS

----------------------------------

R.E. Yanik

 

It was her tone that he heard first

 

That drew his attention.

 

The lilt, the bliss, the warmth could not be denied

 

Magical!

 

He felt uplifted just hearing her voice.

 

He had to know, had to see.

 

Surreptitiously he glanced her way.

 

He turned, looked over at her.

 

Just a quick glance he told himself.

 

Startled! Surprised!

 

One glance would not suffice.

 

A second glance was a must.

 

He was intrigued and interested.

 

His thoughts fell away for just a moment as he gazed into her eyes.

 

She smiled. The possibilities dangled.

 

The connection was utterly wonderful.

He had to know her.

 

 

Our Sincere Gratitude

 

The Wood County Committee on Aging extends our heartfelt gratitude to all who supported our 2026 Poetry Contest, now proudly celebrating its 20th year.

We would like to offer a special thank you to Bowling Green Manor for their generous donation for the first-place award and to Wood Haven Health Care for their generous donation for the runner-up award. Your support helps us continue to celebrate creativity and community through the written word.

We are also deeply appreciative of the professors and students from the College of Arts and Sciences, English Department at Bowling Green State University for their time, expertise, and thoughtful judging of this year’s contest. Your involvement plays a vital role in making this event meaningful and successful.

Thank you all for helping us honor the voices and talents in our community.