Monthly Archives: April 2012

Last Day of April

  Take down the colored baskets and sparkling grass, herd the bunnies and chicks into safe shelter. The painted eggs are past hatching, hope is renewed enough to sustain us another year.   Nature has matured beyond pastels of daffodils …
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The Westside Fanatics 4-H Club Bench

          The bench rests beside the door to an office among animal barns on the Warren County Fairgrounds. The bench is shiny dark green with engraved letters filled in with white paint. I can’t see who …
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What I Didn’t Want When I Was Twelve

I didn’t want hair with body and wave, that simply curled up when I tried to iron it flat.   I didn’t want my stomach to stick out when I looked at myself sideways in Woolworth’s window.   I didn’t …
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Retinal Exploration

        The optometrist puts on a headlamp that makes her look like a spelunker or miner, but it is my eye she’s climbing into, peering deeply as if assessing a long tunnel and running her search beam …
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These Kids Today

        They obsess over lip balm and carry it everywhere in screw-top plastic pots that fit in their pockets. Their mother whips up batches of the stuff from melted beeswax, keeps a constant supply in an air-tight …
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But It Still Serves

I need a cross-body bag that resembles my body: comfortable, expandable, wide at the bottom, and more functional than fashionable. I need a body that resembles a good cross-body bag: dependable, low-cost, soundly constructed, with a lean profile and an …
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My Picture, Four Years Old

                           I have no memory of posing for the photographer, but I recognize that face from the mirror my mother held up to me. I never thought about …
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Posted in Looking Back, My Poetry, National Poetry Month, Nudges & Nudgery, Poetry-Related, Writing Prompts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Passing the Crisis

She fell asleep to music box rain on the high panes. His face leaning into hers was grim but nonthreatening. He wore black, his hair was severe, but he did not mourn for her. Lightning now,   or rogue currents …
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The Walt Whitman Souvenir Spoon

      There are several spoons for Longfellow; how about Whitman? I want a souvenir spoon of Walt Whitman for stirring my coffee while I’m posturing in some cafe, sipping and writing down my poetic thoughts. I want a …
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The Pie Judges

          They had to compare apples to lemons, measuring streusel apple against lemon meringue and a variety of others: berries, creams, even a green tomato, the filling bright and stringy as shredded young frogs.   The …
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