Her name was Rennie. I called her Gran, my grandmother, my father’s mother,my best friend.She wore red lipstick and painted her nails. She loved Jesus, and diamonds,and my grandfather, and her two sons…and me.Every night, she whispered her prayers.She did not go to college, but she visited me at mine;she read everything all the time. She taught…
We did not sleep well last night (“we” being my husband, our dog, and me), which is a pity because it was a wonderful night to sleep. At times, the rain played a lullaby on our roof. I would open my eyes every few minutes and think, “Oh how delicious to fall asleep to this…
First, write your hurts on the paper of your heart.Fold, crease sharply, make a boat.Carry it in cupped hands; set it sailingin the burbling creek of the past.Should it stall in the shallowest part of you,use sharp sticks of memory and nudge it loose.Send it skimming over stones, wrongs washed smooth.It may round bends; if sobreak into a run. Keep it in sight.Cheer…
His fourth birthday, 2003,Spy Kids cake, Spy Kids plates, orange punch,color-coordinated balloons,Thumb Thumb action figures.His grandpa says, “What in the world?”eyeing the toys: thumb people in red jumpsuits.Black cardstock shoe prints,taped to our hardwood floors,a trail to follow, mystery to solve,scavenger hunt for pre-school spies,a treasure chest filled with treat bags.Guest of honor, freckle-faced,dressed in black and orange,just like…
I was a walker to and from school in Walkertownand, though I wasn’t one to brag, I thought the town belonged to me…or at least the little stretch from my yellow house,on the corner of Pear and Spring,to the red brick elementary school on School Street.Each morning, after breakfast, I leapt flat-footedfrom our front porch stoop, my belly full of cream…
Givers of the worldthis one’s for youand all you do And how you givehands unfurledgifts to the world Priceless giftsyour patience and timeyour rhythm your rhyme Often unnoticedvolunteer hours…hourssteadfast superpowers Ready to serveyou notice the needClothe, help, feed Givers of the worldyou have needs, toowho gives to you?
Grocery cart grinding, squealing, stuttering(because somehow I always choose the onewith the bad wheel),I’m thrilled to see a checkout lanewith no waiting!Not self-checkout…a real lane with cashier, bagger, and conveyor belt-a small miracle.Shrieking round the end cap of protein barsand potato chip bags,securing my placein line(first place!),I realize with sinking heartI’ve forgotten the Diet Spriteand…
(with first words borrowed from Eve Merriam’s “How to Eat a Poem”) don’t worry that it might be sour; it willbite first the spot where the lenticels gatherpick those spots, dark or light; they soak up air and sunmay that bite fill you with more than apple, mayit fill you with air and sun and tree…
A lone pine stands sentinelover our backyard,towering above the young arborvitaewho cluster, childlike, beside him,watching his long limbs createshadow puppetson the sloping rock wall.Years ago, two smaller pinesstood alongside,branches overlapping,arms slung over shoulders,grown so closethey hummed the same tunewhen night breezes blew.swish whoosh whoosh swishThen, without warning,high winds felled his brothers.Left as sole survivor,his roots tangled…
My granddaughter, Blair (8 months old), and I enjoy playing with Fisher Price Little People. Her toy bin is filled with them…some inherited from my her dad (my son). On days when I babysit, I carefully unzip the plastic case where the Little People live when not in play. Then Blair and I spread them…