Barbara Loots


Old Proofreader Laments

It makes me see the color read
When I find lead instead of led.

I’m certain spellcheck doesn’t care
when their is there instead of they’re.

And plural’s with apostrophes
are spreading like a dread disease,

while nouns with some possessive clout
are pitifully left without.

The language is confused, it’s true,
by plough, enough, dough, thought, and through,

And yet I’ve pressed the classic rules
against the ignorance of fools.

My name in stone? I’ll die well-versed.
(For God’s sake, check the spelling first.)

Barbara Loots has published poems for five decades in literary magazines, including Blue Unicorn, The Formalist,
I-70 Review, The Lyric, Measure, New Letters
, and Light. Her poems appear in The Random House Treasury of Light Verse, Love Affairs at the Villa Nelle, and other anthologies. Her collections are Road Trip (2014) and Windshift (reviewed here). Read her blog for free at New poems appear occasionally online.