Is the day after a year long party where we sit back looking at unwrapped gifts expectations ups and downs laughter frustration tears quiet moments and noisy ones bubbles fizzing, sipping life's goodness A toast to presence!
Tag: poetry
Address Book
I still have it my first adult address book brown leather binder purchased with my Hallmark discount It started out small including my family's addresses memorized, but initiating the space nonetheless Will I ever fill this up? All of the aunts and uncles, grandparents college friends work friends a work mom, two, three Inked in print, building my own network I'd have a stack of Christmas cards to send Each year, I take it out and start writing notes a book or two of stamps waiting to send greetings on a little trip across Texas, mostly Texas, but other states too I start with the A and go down each name lost touch with that one last year's card was returned where is she now? After a few years, I draw an x through those names that moved on but were not forgotten, remembering the good times, wondering of current whereabouts It's easier to draw an x over those who moved still there, but picking up to a new place normal for post-college friends trying to figure things out going on fun adventures accepting new jobs getting married Siblings got their own sections as they left the nest, Never expecting to re-write my parents' address twice, after two moves from what I considered home I've added more friends but as years have passed, I've had to mark out a name here and there permanently mail doesn't go where they are Sara, my grandma, has an invisible permanent X over her little maroon housed address I can't bring myself to mark her out of my address book
thingie
I’ve resorted to describing
important words with…
thingie
I can’t even fall back on thingamajig
doo-hickey
whatchamacalit
that
thing
it’s a thingie
that thingie over there, I need it
can you get it for me, please?
sure!
I know exactly what you meant
that thingie
of a brain
that’s so overloaded
it forgets basic
thingies
Scattered
CincuentaƱera
A week later streamers hang on the patio vibrant, yet tired a trampoline hasn't been reassembled and probably won't return to its spot in the backyard She's thirteen now we've long stopped synchronized wahoo-wahoo-wahoozie mother-daughter bouncing of summers long past, my hands intertwined with her silly little first grader fingers Gifted wine bottles line up one behind the other I sip from a new coffee mug and finish the last two homemade Mexican wedding cookies baked for a birthday A lone striped gift bag didn't get folded, hot pink crumpled paper peeks from the top A new sparkly evening bag invites possibilities and wonderings about unknown adventures How many more trips around the sun?
Cicadas
drone off and on off and on their outer selves hold tight to a blade of grass tree trunk iris leaves we don't remember planting the front door frame under the porch as if they've been invited they were time tellers before I could read time signaling a long hot day hanging back on my favorite swing long hair dangling in the dirt rocking myself into a bright summer haze eyes closed big toe digging into the ground giving myself a little push nothing to do inside nothing to do outside too hot too boring all I could do was swing back and forth back and forth if I were a cicada I'd sing with them droning off and on off and on complaining about the heat the sun summer almost wishing for cooler weather then realizing I'd have to stop swinging I leave the shell of my former self on the swing pull myself up and head indoors for a drink of water the cicadas continue their songs reminding us this summer heat is temporary
Psst…
Mrs. Garza! he whisper-yells hand raised, tests await commands to start You got a baby trash can? Trash can? I moved it to the front hand sanitizer box of tissues bathroom sign-out sheet He mumbles, looks around making sure no one hears or at least he tries I walk to his desk You got a baby trash can? a little tiny trash can? You see, I got sunflower seeds eat em when I'm bored I don't wanna put em all over the table, you know... Yeah, I know, spit I get it I eat them on long road trips so I don't fall asleep while I'm driving Testing binder in hand I walk to my office looking over my shoulder letting everyone know I'm sort of watching Yank, yank, yank, yank Use paper towels that's all I've got take a bathroom break if you need more Psst... Mrs. Garza thank you He sets his desk as if breaking bread computer plugged in- he forgot to charge it a bag of sunflower seeds slouches agains the testing divider paper towels stacked and ready pencil scratch paper testing ticket Today you'll be taking... Crack! He snaps the first seed
Stopping
for a break is valuable but when you stop what do you do? does the mind wander too much? why is it hard to refocus? start again, build momentum why stop? is it to observe? try something new? look for something, or let something find you? rather than restarting, it's time to continue this thing that sustains and feeds me, consider words that want to be said, that need saying was the stopping meant for listening? how do you bring everything together?
Raspberries
tart and sweet flavor and stain a round mound of crushed ice packed into a paper cone on a hot summer day macerated, fill and sweeten a layer between white wedding cakes, the top tier saved for that first year anniversary shared two weeks later after the honeymoon because it was so darn good why save it? two fresh ones kerplunk! into a sink full of dirty dishwater escaping the dysfunctional sieve of a hand while another plops their neighbors into a waiting mouth
Slices
of oranges sprinkled with salt sticky sweet juice dribbling down a chin of memories well lived some uneventful bursting with simplicity some saved for savoring later when the mood strikes of time held on an analog clock holding still in good times or bad placeholders for stealing moments to write contemplate create of stories interwoven across miles initiating laughter provoking thoughts ideas resonating with souls unleashing frustration distraction confusion affirming realities and struggles inspiring hope and kindness through shared Words