‘twas my last summer day off contract
and what did I do with my time?
basked in air conditioning
turned the thermostat low
gathered up a book
dogs in my lap
read the day
away,
napped
Last Day of Summer
How I Beat the Heat
Hallmark’s Christmas in July movies
high velocity fan, full blast
pretending there’s a blizzard
piping hot black coffee
wrapped in sofa throw
Schnoodles piled high
all of us
beating
heat
The older I get, the less I can endure the extreme heat and humidity. Give me a blizzard to handle the scorching heat! I’ve found that a good snowy Hallmark Christmas in July movie with love instead of hate, free from the problems of the world, is my ticket to a better day! Raising a mug to you – Cheers! Stay cool!
Sunday 3-Dog Donut Tricube
donut dogs
breakfast on
Sunday treats
trio of
Schnoodle boys
all lined up
awaiting
their next bites
patiently
*Tricube poetry consists of 3 stanzas with 3 lines of 3 syllables each, on any topic. As I prepare to return to school this year, I look forward to working with small groups of writers. These short forms help introduce various aspects of poetry such as line breaks, syllables, and structure. Having a bank of poems I’ve written helps me to introduce these to students as we write together.
Cleaning Out!
we’re cleaning out a lifetime of stuff
making room for new adventures
goodbye to all the clutter
farewell to odds and ends
we’re clearing the air
ready for new
memories ~
coming
soon!
Cat and Mouse Nonet
it became a game of cat and mouse
now who’s chasing, now who’s running?
who’s including, who’s snubbing?
who’s manipulating,
orchestrating now?
nobody knows
all sight lost,
reason
gone
family fallout
the fallout started over
the limit 1 toilet paper
when one refused
hospice in favor of
going it alone
but didn’t count the
costs of Covid
when one heard another
found 6 rolls and ordered
him to bring it ~
he tersely replied
he’d already delivered all 6 mega rolls
and ($#) it’s gone to
crap ever since
The Mouse
in my quasi sleep mode
where he kisses me goodbye
before leaving for work
he whispered
be careful when you open the door
there’s a mouse trying to get in
because that’s what happens on a farm
when even the field mouse have had it
with the scorching heat of summer
which prompted deep sleep dreams
of a mouse with a tiny suitcase
because his car ran out of gas
selling encyclopedias
running from a snake
proclaiming his testimony
asking for a glass of water
hoping to find a new home
Cold Brew for Hot Flash
hot flashes nudge a
switch to cold brew coffee for
iced breeze sensations
better than cool sheets
more refreshing than hot brew
for summertime heat
Slice of Sadness: Raw Truths
sometimes I suppress memory
sorrow, disgust, guilt, misgivings
I should probably take more
action on like those
twin mattresses we delivered
to that young single mother of
five dirty children in a photo we saw
in all the mess
and a filthy home last week,
mattresses practically new
we no longer needed, so I listed them
on Facebook Marketplace for cheap
the young mother didn’t have a person
or a way to get them so we delivered
them, left them on the
wheelchair ramp to her mobile home
sat in silence for a few moments staring
at the dump of the place, the broken
chairs and table, the dilapidated pet
cage (minus a pet, thank God),
plastic bags of strewn clothing,
home tattoo kit in a bag with needles,
smashed toys, headless dolls, trash
shattered bottles, crushed cans,
upturned cooler, bricks, dishes, wet papers,
random things everywhere destroyed
by rain and weather and wondered
(tried not to judge but it was impossible)
then a man came out with a bike helmet
and we asked if he was the boyfriend
meeting us to receive the beds
and in an offended tone told us no way
he was only there to fix a leak
with force like we’d slapped him
so we left them there in all the filth
right by a trash heap and wondered
whether to call DFACS or mind our
own business (remembering: I’m mandated
even outside of my own county, I’m
mandated as a human being for
reporting deplorable conditions)
I know they’re inanimate objects
my husband turned to me
confessing a hard truth
as we backed out of the parking space
but I almost feel sorry for the mattresses
I swallowed hard and admitted:
I keep telling myself that there
are five children who need a place
to sleep and these may be the
only clean beds they’ll ever see
(and maybe the only beds at all)
sobered by the experience
of this hardship case
rattled to the core, speechless,
we drove 23 miles back to clean
trying to forget all we’d seen
wondering if we owned enough soap
but still asking: did we do the right thing?
should we return with groceries,
does she have services in place?
because tears do not cure hunger
tears do not clothe children
no, crying doesn’t change a thing
Note: we only saw photographs, not the actual children.
Birthday Cake Breakfast Haiku
my favorite cake
Publix buttercream-frosted
sliced birthday breakfast!
Today is my birthday, and already it has started better than I’d expected! I awoke to a birthday song recording from a member of my writing group and birthday cake on the counter. I’ve spent quiet time writing and watching birds, and the dogs are snuggled, fast asleep, next to me. The best part? I have no looming deadlines or plans today. I can write, I can read, I can drink coffee and eat cake and enjoy the day off here way back in the woods at home.
What’s better than that for a birthday?
Perhaps this is the best day of all to say thank you to YOU if you are reading this blog post. I experience life more richly when I can write about it and share the stories with those who read about it. Thank you, friends, for all the joys of another journey around the sun!
Common Threads 