Tonight, as I bring back The Song Is... for Summer 2021, I'd like to post some new poems by Sharon Waller Knutson. These poems are part of her tribute to her friend and former co-worker Bob Brown. The two of them worked together on the Montana Standard, a newspaper based in Butte. Until recently, they had lost touch with each other, but thanks to the internet, they reconnected, and these poems are the fruit of their renewed friendship.
Poems from Sharon Waller Knutson’s new poetry book, Trials & Tribulations of Sports Bob, the true story of Bob Brown, retired award winning sports writer and photographer for 43 years to be published by Kelsay Books in 2022.
Photo of Bob Brown from his photo album
Photo of Baby Bob
Although he has the face
grandmas and mamas
pinch and pray
their daughters will marry,
in his black jumper
and gray sweater, his body
fattened up by his German
grandma and mama
who dote on this first born
of a farmer and a housewife,
shows he is no prima donna.
His eyes are used to the dark
and his nose tells him
something stinks, but he
doesn’t know it’s him.
He thinks it is normal
to live without electricity
or running water
and to get hosed off
at the car wash next door
when his father thinks
he smells too bad.
He pays no attention
to the stuffed bear plopped
beside him because he
is fascinated by the flashing
light that bursts out
of the big box on a stick
that makes him blink.
He doesn’t know that
at only a few months old
when he gazes into the lens
he is looking into his future.
First published in Verse-Virtual
Photo by Oconto County Reporter
Sports Bob
He is seventeen,
a six foot senior,
forward for Oconto High.
No. 44 on his back.
The score is tied
and Buddy Yeager
roars across the court
like a freight train
and he steps out
and his nemesis
slams into him, pinning
him to the floor. Foul.
The ref blows the whistle
and holds up two fingers
and he shoots the ball,
it soars and sinks the basket
as the crowd cheers
and his team carries him
on their shoulders to celebrate
beating rival Oconto Falls
for the first time in six years
in their cracker box gym.
Snags the trophy for captain
of the 1959-60 season.
Uniforms soaking wet
right down to the jock strap,
as snow and slush pile up
four inches deep on the football
field, they trail the other team.
Shiver and you are toast,
the coach shouts. He grits
his teeth and his father
tells him to quit belly aching
and start scoring. So he does.
He makes the touchdown
to win the game in Algoma.
He never misses a Milwaukee-
Braves game on the radio.
Freshman year, he hits a double
to win the game. His heart
breaks when his school
drops baseball.
A high jumper in track,
his muscular legs leap
over the high bar
to land in a sawdust pit
soft as feathers when fresh.
Hard as concrete after rain.
His golf coach would rather
play golf than teach it.
He is no Tiger Woods
as he hits and slices
and the ball slides right
past the hole, but he earns
nine sports letters despite
working in the lumberyard
and two factories and editing
the yearbook and his mother
harping on him daily,
Sports stink. Get a fourth job.
Scroll down for more poems and photos
Bob and Carole Brown Photo by Morgan Lee
Sept. 5, 1964 Wisconsin
Everything is white except
the croissants on the plate.
Perfume of white mums
turns St. Joseph’s Catholic
Church into a garden.
He even wears a white tuxedo
to match his bride’s organza
gown and both families
toast to the bride and groom.
Knowing this day would come.
But she is just his sister’s
best friend and he the bossy
big brother until his senior year
when he notices she’s all grown up.
But by then there is no time
for romance with college
and a job in Montana. Letters
fly. The phone rings.
He is smitten and buys.
a diamond ring and sends
it in the mail with a note,
Will you marry me?
And she calls and shrieks,
Of course, you idiot.
Soon they are on the road
to Montana, frigid
as Alaska and the Antarctic.
But she’s along for the ride
so she snuggles up to him
and turns up the radio.
Carole Brown and kitten Photo by Bob Brown
The Innocents
for Carole
Barely a bride,
she braces herself
against the wind
and frigid air
of this copper mining
town and snatches
up the stray off
the street. Barely
born, this silver
and black tabby
digs its claws
into the shoulder
of its new mama
and hangs on
as both of them
have no clue
that they have both
found their destiny.
Carole Brown with Axle and Boo Boo photo by Bob Brown
Watch Cats
for Carole
For almost six decades
she has been rescuing
and watching stray cats.
However, Gold Nugget,
long gone, Axle and Boo Boo,
now the resident tabbies,
will tell you they have
been watching her
since they rescued her.
They watch her as she sleeps,
reads her mystery novels,
stirs the fondue in the pot,
views ball games and Dateline,
leaves for mass and the Mayo Clinic.
They’re pretty sure they will
watch her until they die and then
she will acquire more watch cats.
Bob Brown Photo by Carole Brown
Hermit Bob
Fileted from stem to stem
by surgeon’s scalpels,
fingers and feet swelling
like yeasted bread dough,
he spends most of his time
on the second floor
of the house he has lived
in for five decades, mostly
in his office surrounded
by mementos of the sports
and music life he loves.
As the breeze blows the curtains,
letting in the sunshine, he is startled
by her footsteps, the flash bulbs
so bright even the striped tabby tries
to jump out of his arms,
but he holds on tight
because he knows the road is
going to get even bumpier,
and having lived almost eight decades,
he is prepared for whatever
life throws his way as long as
he has his computer and cats,
and, of course, her for company.
Falling For Her
He falls for her in high school
and falls all over her for almost
six decades of marriage.
But he doesn’t fall head
over heels until sprinting
towards his eighth decade
he loses his balance
and their nurse neighbor
hears screams and slips
out of her sickbed
and finds them sprawled
on the sidewalk, her femur
splayed and splintered
and his ribs rioting
and protesting
like the hawk and thrasher
in the oak tree in their yard.
Photo of Butte by Bob Brown
Sharon Waller Knutson is a retired journalist who lives in a wildlife habitat in Arizona. She has published several poetry books including My
Grandmother Smokes Chesterfields by Flutter Press and What the
Clairvoyant Doesn’t Say and Trials & Tribulations of Sports Bob
forthcoming from Kelsay Books. Her work has also appeared in various journals most recently in Spillwords,Trouvaille Review, Muddy River Review, Gleam, a journal for the Cadralor, Verse-Virtual, Your Daily Poem, Red Eft Review and The Song Is…
I hope that you enjoyed this preview of Sharon's new book. Kelsay Books will publish it in 2022, which is not that long from now!
Let's add a little music.
During the pandemic I've been listening to a number of younger or new to me jazz musicians who perform at Smalls in NYC. Here is the vibraphonist Sasha Bernstein's "Between the World and Me": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7LUU0sm6HQ
With the other members of her quintet, she plays Warren Wolf's "Grand Central" and her own "Spliced Heart": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1zPHTEN3b4
The Peter Bernstein Quartet plays Monk's "Pannonica": https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vUZq4Iij2yQ
Here Bernstein plays "Stella by Starlight" with his fellow guitarist Joachim Schoenecker: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z53PnDciyMQ
Enjoy!