Terry Andre Dukerschein
Terry Andre Dukerschein is a freshwater biologist, teacher, and writer who added farmer and shepherd after retiring in 2011 from supervising a field station on the Mississippi River for the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources. She and her husband Russell raise registered Shetland sheep on their conservation-friendly hobby farm near Glen Flora, Wisconsin. When not farming sustainably, promoting Shetland sheep, tracking wolves, gardening, substitute teaching, fishing, or writing, she indulges in the Fiber Arts with a nearly endless supply of fine Shetland wool. She and her husband also trade animal care with neighbors so that they are able to visit children, grandchildren, friends and siblings throughout the United States. Her articles and poems have appeared in various Wisconsin Poets’ Calendars, newspapers, newsletters, and scientific or literary journals.
Awards for her poetry include a Golden Scroll Award from the La Crosse Writer’s Club and a Barbara Stevens Memorial Award, 3rd Place (South Dakota State Poets). She is a lifetime member of the Wisconsin Fellowship of Poets as well as belonging to the Northern Lights Handspinners Guild in the Twin Cities, the Rusk Country Regional Arts Alliance, and several sheep and conservation/environmental organizations. Woods, water, wool, and words are her passions.
Facebook: Jeanne Dukerschein, Glen Tamarack Farm
Glen Tamarack Farm website: glentamarack.com
Wisconsin Poets’ Calendar (1989, 1991, 1992, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 2001, 2008)
Touchstone (Vols. 43, 45, 49); Seasons of the Heart 1986
The Purveyor, UW–Eau Claire (1971, 1972)
Elegy for Jason
Grandmother's lace handkerchief is not old.
I feel old when I dab my eyes at your burial.
You never grew old, drier than bones
Thrown into fire, drier than fallen seeds
Trapped in sun's net of cracked, clay earth.
Sometimes, when we lose one so young,
We sob like children, let go lucky,
Melt clenched fists with tears,
Loosen our cracked clay faces,
Sprout dormant seeds of gratitude when we
Honor your smiles, your perpetual questions,
Your bare feet padding in and out of our houses.
Barbara Stevens Memorial Award 3rd Place
(South Dakota State Poets)
Across Pine Creek
From the cement factory
Forty acres of reservation
Stand like antique teacups,
Fragile on their limestone shelf.
Small comfort the Rainbow Woman
Prophesies doom for freeways
And overzealous warriors.
She cries for feminine balance.
She dreams free prairie—
Elk and bison once again.
Dead swine have fouled Pine Creek;
These and bridges washed away.
The warriors throw and build,
Throw and build even as more
White canaries, missing school,
Wield knives in private mines,
Deep behind taverns, discount stores.
How much must they cut away?
As dogwood rises red against the snow
Who will Father Manitou seed
To love this land?
First appeared in Touchstone, Vol. 45, Spring 1989, La Crosse, WI