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?
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
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
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?
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
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
finds us dodging each other
bumping almost shoulder to shoulder
stepping over a wet towel
or bunched up pajamas
if it's a bad morning,
we'll argue
if it's a good morning,
we'll argue a little less
"clean up the toothpaste worms from the sink"
I remind her
for the hundredth time
"I KNOW!"
she snatches the brush
before I can get to it
so I plug in the hair dryer instead
I decide to let the exasperation
and tone roll off
not. worth. it.
I wear my thick-skinned fur coat
24/7
grit my teeth,
breathe in,
breathe out
and carry on
with my morning
"this eye looks good
but why is this eye
just NOT working?!"
a white washcloth smudges off
a crooked layer of eyeliner
along with a few tears
she doesn't want me to see
I lean in, mascara wand
trying to make some magic
happen for my own eyes
I don't have time
to smudge it off
"how? how can you
put on mascara
without opening your mouth?"
I continue applying my face
she continues applying hers,
sneaking a glance at my
expertise
with a mascara wand
"I've been doing this longer
than you've been alive"
she leans in with her own wand
mouth wide open
satisfied,
she steps back
I look at our reflection
and try not to think
about the days
I braided her hair
in front of this mirror
and she'd want to help
with my makeup
wafted toward
me this morning
out of nowhere
empty street
no kids playing
backyards seemed
bare, still
from where
did this little
bubble
appear
without others trailing
behind?
one shimmery
rainbow glistening
bubble
floating in the air
is it Glinda
coming to pay me a visit
grant me some wishes?
promise I won’t cheat
no asking
for three more
wishes
but seriously,
here I am
a grown
woman
looking
for Glinda the Good Witch
in her puffy pink
ball gown
crowned in her
sparkling tiara
waving that magic wand
contemplating
three hopeful wishes
that floated along
in a single
bubble
until somewhere
it popped
It's spring today
Had to double check
A brightening sun teases me
through the window
as I write
It's still cold outside,
but it doesn't have
winter's bite
I'm cutting short
my morning puttering
Got a lot done yesterday
so I could enjoy the whole
of today
I typically get the Sunday blues
on Saturday night
lamenting a long list of
Still Needs To Get Done Before Monday
Back to work Monday
A back to work
rain in the forecast
Monday
Today,
I'm going out
to play
with a spring
in my step
a taste for
the end of May
The 'tween is helping with dinner
burgers
Hubster is cooking
I'm playing with a craft project
Clean-up is mine for tonight
A chunk of lettuce flies from
'tween's hands
and the discussion quickly goes to
the three second rule
"I didn't see that"
I say,
"It's okay," 'tween says
"the wet pieces may or may not
have been on the floor,
it's not like someone's feet were there
and we don't talk about Bruno..."
Noooo! not that song again!
I've had some bubbly today,
I don't care
dinner is cooked
it's spring break
I had friend time this afternoon
I'll skip the lettuce
It's still spring break
and I'm trying not to care
too much
Life goes on
with or without lettuce
on a burger
Nerds Beget Nerds 