New Voices

Three short poems by Carl Palmer:  

August Forecast

Looking like the usual foggy summer morning 
of our Puget Sound town just south of Seattle,
normally burning off to sunshine before noon,
however this is smoke from the California fires.

Air quality level shows us worst in the world,
no protection provided by coronavirus masks
as we pray for a rain to wash them both away.

To Do

On my workbench a list of tasks to tackle,
projects put off since at least last summer,
hoping to find the time to do them this year.

Pandemic mandate means I must stay home
these past six months of days filled with time,
plenty of time, yet my jobs remain undone.


normalcy in chaos

hearing her harping 
on all that’s changed
since this virus struck
makes me appreciate
that she has not. 


Carl “Papa” Palmer of Old Mill Road in Ridgeway, Virginia, lives in University Place, Washington. He is retired from the military and Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) enjoying life as “Papa” to his grand descendants and being a Franciscan Hospice volunteer.