Daydream
Some days I am more nervous than others
the perpetual chatter makes me crazy
as I realize we live in a vulnerable world.
Each day I search for a gift, any gift, to
help me survive yet another day.
So I daydream of the waves in the ocean
which roll into shore over and over again
as I put on my maroon bandana, walk
out as far as I can and cry like a baby,
wiping my dripping face with my hand.
Written for Shay's Word Garden List!
In the Meantime
Meanwhile flowers still bloom
grass continues to green
babies are still being born
people are falling in love.
Meanwhile there is still laughter
people make plans and achieve them
ducks and geese swim in the lake
squirrels scamper about for food.
Meanwhile life goes on
a short time between birth and death
we have to appreciate each day
enjoy each flower that blooms.
For Sumana's prompt "Say it With Flowers" at What's Going On?
Memories of Dad
I remember my dad, fingers imbedded with grease,
coming home after a day of work, smelling of oil.
At the dinner table, he didn't talk much as we ate,
unless he thought he had something important to say.
I remember how he washed dishes after we ate,
telling us that was how he'd get his hands clean,
but I know he would have done it anyway.
And, oh how he could tease, sometimes.
I can still picture him standing behind me
when I sat down to watch television, how he
dangled a string from behind, to touch my forehead.
I would think there was a bug crawling and swat it
away, and he would laugh and laugh. I hated it then,
but now am thankful for the memory, and I can still
almost hear him laugh.
I remember the bonfires we would build in fall
to burn all of the leaves we raked. The smell
of burning leaves, my dad standing with a rake,
the acrid scent of smoke imbedded in our clothes,
the black clouds of particles that rose into the air
before they disappeared high in evening sky.
And now he too is gone like the smoke in the air.
It is autumn, and my yard is filled with leaves,
but no one builds bonfires any more. Today
as I look outside my window at the colorful ground
I want to conjure up a bonfire just to see him again!
Written for my prompt "Memory" at What's Going On?
Just Like That
Just like that, hope evaporated
even though the cookbook
told me that there was a fix
for the dismal state we were in.
It started when the newspaper
wouldn't support a candicate,
a gut punch to what then became
the first spray of the great unfolding.
But in a few years we will all
live in luxury, as the price of eggs
will have gone down enough
to thrill our narrow cultified brains.
Just give me a museum to hide in,
a vase to hold my wilting flowers
a book to read, and let me live alone
as the whole world passes me by.
This is written for Shay's Word Garden List - Joy School.
(It seems a lot of people were willing to vote based on their hopes that the price of eggs and other things will go down. For that, they were willing to throw democracy under the bridge. In a few years, I wonder if they will think it is worth it....and if, indeed, the price of 'eggs' will have gone down.)
