Tag: Gratitude

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A Flickering

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at 4:37 I heard

scrambling of paw

on wood floor

ticky-toe hurried

steps toward

the bedroom door

next the whining,

different from normal

pleas, like someone

stepping full weight

on my Boo Radley

then a return to

the bed, where he

turned in circles

bumping us with

his body to wake

us up, then lay

between our heads

trembling

panting

as if there were

a ghost.

I took them out,

all three,

in the light balmy

mist of the

pitch black

Georgia backwoods

starry skies

thought of the bits

of squirrel tail

over near the tree

line where violent

death hung in the

recent air

we came back

inside, and I turned

off the light to return

to bed.

A flicker after the

switch-off, and I

knew.

Hello, Mom!

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Visual Vexations

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Visual Vexations

my brother and I

wonder still: were

Mom’s Lewy Body Dementia

confusions visual

distortions or hallucinations?

She saw a little boy in an

orange shirt sitting all alone

at the storefront and worried

about his safety.

We saw a pumpkin.

She saw strange men with

bunches of bananas

under the carport.

We saw family members

building her a wheelchair

ramp with Dewalt power tools.

She heard voices playing

tricks on her. We heard

branches scratching

the shutters in the wind.

Still, we wonder what she

would see now.

Would she know we are

her children, making our

way through this carnival

funhouse with all these

distorting mirrors

of the complex

and the concave,

wondering, too,

what things are?

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All This Pain

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the closest we

ever got to a

rainbow was a

peacock feather

the day the two

went to Noah’s Ark

to look for things

to discover

to wonder about

I didn’t feel like

that kind of mother

who says a prayer

and leaves it in

the lap of Jesus

without worry

I was more

the warrior type

praying everyday

hoping all the

nickels would add

up to be worth a miracle

I knew in the back

of my mind when I

saw the Cheshire Cat

smile

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Ticks ~ Husband vs. Wife

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Wife: Oh, good gracious! A tick!

(gets tweezers, removes tick, flushes it)

7 seconds later finishes

applying makeup, gets dressed and starts

writing before work in her favorite chair

***********

Husband: (hollers from shower)

Can you come here?

I need you to look at something!

Wife: (hollers back) I’m not falling for that again.

Husband: No, seriously.

I think I have a tick.

Wife: I’ll be there when you get out.

Husband: (parading into living room

towel wrapped around his waist,

still half-wet, hair every whichaway,

pointing just under his left nipple)

No wonder I’ve been itching since

we got home from camping!

Wife: Are you sure it’s a tick? It’s

embedded deep. It’s not a mole?

Husband: I don’t think so.

Do you have tweezers?

Wife: Yes, I’ll get them.

(brings them from makeup bag)

Husband: Here, you try! (hands tweezers back)

Wife: (rolling eyes)

Husband: Well, I can’t see that angle

Wife: There’s a mirror right

behind you (digging at embedded

tick, husband wincing)

Husband: Here, let me try

(takes tweezers)

Wait, do you have different

tweezers? These aren’t lining up right.

Wife: (goes and looks for another pair

brings them back 3 minutes later)

Husband: (still digging) I got part of it

Wife: The head is still in there.

Husband: I’ll dig that out later. I’m

going to be late for work…..

(dresses, kisses her, grabs coffee, leaves for work)

Wife returns to chair to finish writing

<writes: Ticks ~ Husband vs. Wife>

Special thanks to Two Writing Teachers

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A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 5

Boo Radley on intake at the rescue organization, so matted they had to shave him down

Day 5:

from the corner

of the house

I could see

the bull’s nostrils flare

I covered my eyes

and peeked through

two fingers

with one eye

our little rescue dog

the Schnoodle we

named Boo Radley

for his timid demeanor

the Schnauzer-Poodle mix

abandoned

in a duplex

by his former family

found by a landlord

matted and starving

thirsting to death

our Boo Radley

with more issues

than a decade of

Saturday Evening Posts

Boo, who trembles

when a cell phone dings

who drops his ears

when we pick him up

who has a nervous

breakdown when he

smells the heat

from the toaster

who sits and stares

down the driveway

when one of us

should be coming home

our Boo Radley

did a most

surprising thing

Boo the day we brought him home
Boo with zoomies on the farm
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On Hearing the News

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one of my adult daughters

still calls novels

chapter books ~

on hearing

our family news

she texted:

there I was

listening to my own

chapter book

in my own

little world

of someone else’s

little did I know

there was another

story unfolding

in my own….

I smiled and replied

this could be the start

of a new chapter…….

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Purple Foxglove Forgiveness Haiku

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am I naive to

believe that purple foxgloves

bloom in forgiveness?

that what was destroyed

smiles Heaven’s understanding

and blesses again?

or am I just a

poet choosing to believe

signs hold messages?

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Reduced Speed Ahead

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Reduced Speed Ahead

crave different days

not working deadline-driven

not governed by clocks

seems all or nothing

drowning in a swift riptide

too tired to love life

sacrificing hearts

of days just to earn a wage

what’s a better way?

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Day 29 of #VerseLove with Fran Haley of North Carolina

Fran Haley of North Carolina is our host for Day 29 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write Heart Map poems. You can read her full prompt here.

Fran explains that author Georgia Heard created Heart Maps to help younger students find their own meaningful stories. She encourages us to brainstorm “first times” in our own lives – or last times.

The Last Time

The last time I came home

before you died you

stood feebly

in the door

cold rushing in

against your

flannel pajamas

swallowing you

life leaving your body

escaping you

your voice

deep and low

sunk to the bottom

of your being

a soul cry of despair

saying my name

Kim

proving you knew me

there at the bitter end

unlike the times before

your trembling arms

reaching for me

I reeled at

the change in you

in only a few days

and held you up

while we cried

both knowing

this would be

our last

standing hug

our last

cry together

our final

goodbye

before you

slipped away

I watched you die

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Day 28 of #VerseLove with Glenda Funk: Strike Through Poetry

Glenda Funk of Idaho is our host for Day 28 of #VerseLove, inspiring us to write Strike Through Poems. You can read her full prompt here. Strikethrough poetry is similar to found or blackout poetry, where a poem exists within an existing poem.

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The Key

Don’t you wish we

could take the key

to the end of

the island like

we used to do

when I was little

and you could still

say Latin names

for each shell and bird and tree

your love for them pure

and passionate before

the day it all changed

for you?