Posts for June 21, 2017 (page 5)

My first boss was
a restaurant owner
named Michael
who lived with a woman for years
and years but did not marry her
I heard long after
my waitressing days were over 
she kicked him out–dumped his
desktop computer on to the street
the story was

Michael approved of my work eithic
hired my best friend without
meeting her when I said she was
just like me
told me that the best thing I would
learn from waitressing was
I wouldn’t want to do it forever
go to college, he said
always proud of me
always curious about me
quizzing me on the Bible, confused
how I could attend a Christian
college but not want to be a priest

he was always kind, and when he
died suddenly, well after
the restaurant had closed, 
I lived states away and
I felt sad, imagining him standing
in the road, looking down
at his computer 
in pieces
on the sidewalk

Four women side by side,
sun
low and red
against our strong backs—we still have each
other’s back, though years have
passed
and one has slipped into
the past. We
all will follow. Not
today. Our laughter holds the setting sun.

for Leslie, Carolyn and birthday girl, Mary Anne

I won’t stop drinking until you marry
me, you said as I railed you over the coals
for missing dinner.  

You don’t catch bears with buckshot
I hollered as I grabbed Olivia
and clothes for the next day
and stormed out.  

What hotel do we stay at?
I asked as she cried and screamed
at me, you were mean to Daddy.
What was my next move?
Please quit crying,
yes, I did yell at your father but…  

Standing out front of a hotel
on a hill in Frankfort, KY,
next to the interstate
my mother in law
informs me of the sum
of money just given
to her son, Olivia’s father,
my POSSLQ. You are not
entitled to a penny
since you won’t marry him.  
Excuse me but your son
has never asked
me to marry him,
sober I reply.  

There was no will,
no beneficiary listed
on anything.  

We were married,
the logical decision,
she was almost 5 years,
he, not sober yet, me still angry.
Twenty-four years together,
19 married, filled with blues,
injuries, insults, joys and sorrows,
two good, hard working,
dysfunctional people grafted,
grew, bloomed, sprouted
one seed and now stand
tall as 3 separate,
yet close, trees
in the same forest.

Jets of light and shadow
cross the wooded ravine  

You ground yourself
beat back the wobblies  

become a score of wingbeats
flung soundwaves from struck silver  

Your body shimmers
the heart’s inky calligraphy  

the split moment’s
crystal spillage                                    

~ Found poem composed/modified from words in Sandra Meek’s poem “Coma”

I’m no stickler for etiquette,
but I’ve always been impressed by good manners;
witness our numerous books on the subject.

So after visiting with friends,
and hearing their son say, “Yes, Mam” and “Yes, Sir,”
I tried to get you to do the same.

Maybe I hadn’t started early enough
or you didn’t hear others with the habit,
but those words didn’t stick.

More than a dozen years have passed.
Imagine my surprise, then, to find that
you are becoming a Southern gentleman.

Though your bow ties amuse me,
I love that you honor tradition by
writing a stanza for the school sesquicentennial.

Who else makes sure my glass is full,
knows when to put an arm on my shoulder,
or asks about one of my projects?

When you were little,
you calculated how to get what you wanted.
That scared me.

Now you are exploring what makes you happy,
learning the power of gestures and words in the world,
and giving to others.

These days, I really shield my skin
from the sun.  When I do yard work,
it’s 60 SPF sunscreen on my face,
a floppy straw hat,
long-sleeved shirt, long pants,
gardening gloves.  I laugh

at how much I now resemble
my mother’s cousin, Louisa,
from the Mennonite side
of the family.  True to their beliefs,
she wore plain black, ankle-length
dresses (probably homemade),
black laced up boots,
and a sun bonnet tied
under her chin.  Witch-like,
in my imagination, even though
she would smile and joke
with my mom as we strolled
down the rows of her neatly tended
garden, picking out perfect
green beans or asparagus
or canteloupe or strawberries.
Still, I felt thankful

our side of the family was
Methodist.  Mom wasn’t about to hide
her light under a bushel.  She wore
bright, flower-print sundresses,
a string of pearls at her neck,
pearl clip-on earrings,
and red lipstick.  As a kid,
that choice couldn’t have been
more clear to me.

Seems the devil was in the flash.

In the 8+ years since I started having caregivers
I have found that the most important trait one must possess
is to be caring.  Along with this obvious characteristic one
must be willing to share—their laughter, their smiles, good
vibes, jokes, stories and insights.  Again and again the old
adage proves true.

cruise ship pulled into dock
Port Haifa Israel
a place revered
by people throughout
the world known to many
as The Holy Land
flags flying everywhere
white with the Star
of David in blue
honoring the king
who united their country
if only we had a king
like David here

She reaches into her pocket;
a lake reclaimed from wine barrels.
Her options travel the world;
build infinite possibilities.
Grab some! she says.
She launches.
Cherish stories.
At the end of your season,
make more.