Hite Poetry Day

Recently, the grandson of poet William Ullrich Hite, Thomas Hite, contacted me regarding his grandfather's poetry collection, Coffee Shop Poems. He was kind enough to send me over a copy of the collection from sunny California. Below is one of William's poems and, below that, one of Thomas's. 

Gift - William Ullrich Hite

Twisting the wind
to a rainbowed braid
I gave it to my love,
who twisted it into her flowing hair,
and, (as is the way
with a maid)
went laughing
into the sun...

My laughter
danced after her
- and I was done...

Leg, Sickle, Sin: Thee, Sis - Thomas Hite

In a Sense
I loved her.
but it was
just anesthetic-
It was just my
that went too
far too quickly,
and felt too
- Innocence;
I loved her!

In no sense
I loved her,
But it was
just an
It was just my
a Nation
that went too far
too quickly,
and feel, too-
I Loved her...

In nascence,
I'll abed her...
Bah- 'twas just
A "ness" (the tick).
It was just?

Imagine a shun-
the twin to "far,"

to "quick"
Leanne fell, to...
I sense
I Loved her.