Posts for June 13, 2021 (page 3)

Used to dress like that
Cropped white pants
Stands with one hip to side
Beige 2” slides
pretty blue top
but no ruffles
Silver chain with symbol
around neck
Walks away aware
of her fashion image

Another with supple skinny legs
Short blue cutoffs
Rolled even higher
Long shirt buttoned
And tied low to hide
Pregnancy fact

Now long pants
To cover swollen feet
encased in support socks
Shirt buttoned up to top button
no cleavage revealed
Plain earrings
No claiming chain
Neither wedges
Only flat-bottomed shoes
Cane for support

blue eyes never a more welcome sight, my God. I shake
                    and almost cry
                    and we hold each other like tomorrow is an illusion
she’s warm, tan from home on the lip of the beach. I love her
                    more than when she left, somehow
                    more than my mind can seem to understand
for hours our arms press together for no reason other than energy
                    that only we seem to share
                    that I think is borne from heaven’s fingertips
she wants to meet my friends, she says. I tell her my new name and
                    she says it’s meant to be
                    she understands everything I tell her
by some miracle, we are still the same people. After two trips around
                    the sun, our laughs sound the same and
                    the sun retained its happy glow
by some miracle, she’s here.

Old dog lies in the sunshine:
“bake-dog,” my daughter says,
too young to understand
the ache of tired bones.

For that I am glad.

[And here is my poem for yesterday, which I didn’t get home in time to post.]

No exaggeration

a thousand gold stars fall
from your eyes

the noonday sun blazes
in your smile

you are the mysterious
depths of oceans

you are the welcoming
expanse of sky

What is the shelf life of words?
Milk and cheese and canned foods
have an expiration date.
They are labeled so that you know
when it’s time to get rid of them.
Medication, herbs, anyting one might
think to consume has an expiration date,
something to warn us not to consume it
lest we become ill or worse.
But what about words?
How long should we carry those
in our heads before we let them
go to avoid further damage?

By  Kelly Waterbury 

                                                                               600,000

                                                       
                                                living                                                     breathing                                                                                                                              
                                                                               
                                                                                 souls     
                                                                                                                                                                                                     
                                                sprung                                                   headlong                
                                                                                                                                                              
                                                                             
                                                                                 betrayed
                          
                                             
                                              unflagged                                                   slalom                                                                                 
                                                                             
                                                                                   died

                                           
                                             kin                                                                bereft
   
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           alone

The rain hammers the Earth,
Yet the young robins fly
In the air—-a dance more delicate
Than their movements on a clear day

They pluck at the worms
Who begin to resurface
From the Earth—-it’s a miracle
That their species servives

Thunder rattles all of the homes;
It rolls farther & farther
Into the distance, shrinking away
Like a cowering animal

It begins to pour harder—-the
Wind & water reach my face
& tickle my toes, enabling me
To inhale, & I feel as if

I can breathe

Was it stupid to spend a few hours outside?
I don’t really know how vaccines work
but after a rough night and a delirious morning
I felt okay enough to catch my nephew’s tee-ball game.
The unexpectedly scorching sun
was definitely going to burn my skin
and I wonder if I was drinking enough water,
except I don’t think that’s what ultimately got me.

The cold front swung in like an aluminum bat
ushering in a blessed wind
that drew collective sighs from the crowd.
Dark clouds threatened to postpone the game
until they fortunately squeezed by,
save for the little hook on the end
bringing a downpour on us all
like God almost forgot to water the baseball fields.

Was a cold rain, too, and it came fast.
We initially tried to ride it out but in seconds
we were running for shelter under bleachers and trees.
I was drenched and shivering but having a blast
being reminded of my days fighting rain on the field.
Unfortunately for me, the harsh temperature drop
jarred an immune system already stressed
with trying to figure out this mystery substance I just had dumped in.

My fever spiked faster than the temperature dropped
and once more I could not get comfortable at home
amidst groans and body aches
in between long periods of fatigued slumber.
The evening was worse than the morning,
but I still laughingly texted my buddy,
you know how it was hot today, then it wasn’t. Well…
I think he was more concerned than I was.

Make no mistake, last night was awful
and I’m not looking forward to that second dose.
In about four weeks, don’t expect
to see or hear from me for a couple of days.
I’ll be in my PJs with plenty of fluids, ready to ride out
a miserable time made bearable by
the knowledge that I, like many of you
have endured this same sacrifice for the good of society.

And then I think back
over the previous year,
the masks and social distancing,
video calls and NTI schooling.
It was a trying time for us all, no doubt,
but we were sacrificing together,
to eventually bring us back to some sense of normalcy.
Has that not all been worth the fight?

Provoking Emergency Picking

a bit of cobbler dropped
on front porch:
purple mountain
to the tiny ants
carrying away
their sweet boulders
in an orderly row
bit by bit
bite by bite
until
the duststorm
of a broom sweep
blows it over
the edge 
to the
snapdragons 
below

Philanthropists say

we can sell our inmost truths

in three hundred words

which is harder than haiku—

Here, please accept my finger!

A cave
carved with scars and past.

A shelter
inhabited with wonder and echoes.

A ship
propelled by stars and prospects.

I, the cave, the shelter, the ship.