NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

Today was a day about the day job. Felt strange and in a weird way lonelier than the past month and a half. But we trudge on folks, we trudge on. (And a hat tip to my Mom, Betty Frezon for a line in her chat tonight that ended up in this poem!)

I refilled the coffee grinder today
where it hangs ready to churn my
morning beans into a small jar.
I looked at the bigger jar with
its inch of oatmeal remaining.
I threw away the cheese wrapper
and rinsed the empty milk carton.
Took the trash out, bin rumbling
put some boxes in recycling too
gave coffee grounds to the garden.
The evening light shone out of
daffodils so delightfully happy
whatever time had been measured
was paused and pressed in amber.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

The mail brought a postcard and the NaPoWriMo prompt brought a link to a lovely archived version of Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers. Lovely indeed and a welcome diversion on this cold April morning.

I looked up the meaning of forsythia
hoping to write a poem for you.
The only things in bloom here
right now are maple, forsythia and
of course daffodils.
But, according to my book,
the bright and bobbing flowers
in the front garden mean “regard”
and the hills of maple now a-blush
stands in for “reserve”
which seem like such a
Brontë-ish bouquet –
much room for misunderstanding
and resulting hilarity or tears.
Forsythia though, didn’t make the list.
Looking up other names
brought me to flowering olive
also not in the translations, and
Easter tree, while fitting in the
calendar, didn’t earn a second look.
So I gave up the old resource and
did what I had to do and googled it
and was told by several sources that
forsythia, being an early flower,
means “anticipation”
Since we are all guilty of looking
every time we pass, hoping for
that tell-tale yellow budding
I’ll accept this. And hope you
will accept my child’s fistful of
sunshiny anticipation and regard
on this chilly April morning.

Daffodils and Mailbox

From the quote box:

He who enjoys doing and enjoys what he has done is happy. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

Other things seen today

Daffodils seem extra exuberant and much appreciated this year!

and then the hills, with clouds:

Other things seen today

NaPoWriMo – Day Six

I’m settling into a new routine…

this morning double yellow lines
veered off the center path
and into the April garden.
when I arrived, coffee in hand,
the daffodils were bobbing,
looking around, going nowhere.
Sat on the steps, frothy shadows,
sun and breeze my companions
thinking this a fine office
meeting in my ear, mug in hand
chickadees checking in
wings all a-whir, they dance
How will it be to leave this,
this strange and novel normal?

Afterwards, I pulled out my folding chair for a better view of the front garden and had a go at it with both my normal palette and a new set of colors. It’s hard not be fascinated by the light changing on yellow flowers as the sun moves across the day.

NaPoWriMo – Day Six

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Five

She came, needing to buy
a replacement for something
broken — accidentally,
unfortunately, sadly —
and then she began to weep,
her husband, not dead six days
would have known how to fix it
how to do all those things
and she did not,
and so she stood with me
weeping, both of us
and a wordless space
holding on to each other
no heroes,
trying again to breathe.

I told a minister a little about this chance encounter and said something like – what can anyone say? He said – I can tell you as a minister there is nothing you can say in times like that. It was an interesting day – one of those days when you wonder what the world is trying to tell you, and if that’s the case, why can’t it speak a little plainer.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty-Five

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty

(based on a real encounter. PS it’s hard to take hair selfies…)

We Both Had Braids

Like wow, that’s your real hair
the young woman said,
having admired the color
and me, having noted hers
orange and pink tones
recalling a stylish dress
I wore in seventh grade,
answered – you mean the dark
and white, making grey?
I considered my mother’s
beautiful white waves
and told her how my
father’s hair had stayed
dark with silver strands
She said, you’re so lucky!

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Twenty

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Eighteen

I had taken a week off my duties as Twitter-Aggregator (“I read twitter so you don’t have to!”) because sometimes you have to step back and regroup. Now it’s time to get back to it and to start trying to exert pressure again to get things done. It ain’t easy being ignored (and what else would you call a non-response from elected officials). For better or worse hope springs up again like daffodils after a bad winter.

All the time I was growing up
people in the movies
did the right thing,
rose to the moment,
made the hard choice,
and even the bad guys
murmured their regrets
and whispered love for mom
in their final moments.
These days, that slaps me
in the face with each request
to send a crucial letter
to text or fax appeals
for the action so needed.
Sure, I think, of course.
Of course I will do that.
And then I wonder why
thousands or millions of
messages and words are needed
for a trusted leader
to do the right thing.
And that is the hardest
loss of all – where did it go
that “do the right thing?”
I don’t pretend that
movies are just like life
but if I have to ask you
to do the right thing
over and over and over
maybe I’m just asking
the wrong person.

NaPoWriMo 2019 – Day Eighteen