Jason Talbot

Website:  www.argobuilder.com
Email: jason@argobuilder.com

Jason Talbot grew up in Wisconsin, USA, and for a couple years, in the Netherlands.  He was present at the destruction of the Berlin Wall, and ever since remains interested in building bridges between people.  Jason graduated from Milwaukee School of Engineering with a degree in Architectural Engineering and works in the manufacturing and mining equipment industry. He has enjoyed learning about, and seeing, many parts of the world, and is lucky to have met so many interesting people from so many different cultures. Jason lives in Wisconsin with his wonderful wife and daughters, and is thankful for many things. Hobbies include: family time, travel, woodworking, growing apples, making cheese, playing violin (poorly), fishing and sailing.

His poetry has been published in The Avocet Journal of Nature Poetry, Coldnoon International Journal of Travel Writing, the Museletter, Wisconsin Poets Calendar, and the Blue Heron Review.


Mountains of Stones

Through the pines he would dash
Becoming Sioux, Apache, or Mohican.
He couldn’t be caught,
For every trail was in his mind.
There were mountains of stones
Full of rattlers, he knew.
In the boughs of the tallest tree
He found joy.
Under the canopy of umbrella plants
They found a hidden world
All their own.
With time to lay with his stomach
On the dirt, taking in the world around him.
Then as he grew from boy to man
A road opened before him,
And towards it with vigor he did dash,
But he felt he was not
Becoming Sioux, Apache, or Mohican.

Originally Appeared in The Avocet Journal of Nature Poetry

Someday I Will Walk
Through That Deep Forest

Someday, I will walk through that deep forest,
The eagle my guide, the bear my brother.
And I will breathe silence,
And I will drink the long rippling thunder.
When it rains, I will be wet.
When it is cold, I will be cold.
The high woodland oaks will be my cathedral.
And the world will become real to me again,
And I will become real to the world.

Originally Appeared in The Blue Heron Review