Nolan, the Poet

This was originally published on Bubblews, January 2014.  I’m trying to move much of my stuff about Nolan to one central place.


We have a collection of poems that my son wrote during his short lifetime. Most of them were written between the ages nine and eleven. When I read them, I am amazed at the depth he showed at such a young age. Many friends of mine, when they attempt to make sense of his passing, see a life that was holy and wise beyond his years. Reading his poetry and looking at his sketches give me a feeling of connection to him. I’m thankful for these tangible things that give me comfort. Here is one of the many poems that he wrote. I am sure I will share more as time passes. This was written by Nolan when he was ten.

The Hunted Deer

I’m running through the trees.

I hear a Bang! Bang! Bang!

Here comes the danger bird through the woods,

And this is what it sang:

“The hunter is coming, the hunter is coming,

With his fire stick.

He makes it go Bang! Bang! Bang!

By giving it a flick.”

Oh no! Oh no! a Bang! Bang! Bang!

A bird has dropped from the sky!

The fire stick that goes Bang! Bang! Bang!

Has shot the bird in the eye.

I trip on a rock and fall to the ground

And then Iook and look and around,

And then I hear a sound….

Bang! Bang! Bang!

A pain in my chest.

There’s blood

all over my breast.

I’m going into a tunnel,

and very soon I’ll reach the funnel.

I’m walking on a soft grass floor,

But on earth I walk no more.


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