Carly Brown, with her great blond hairdo, was anxious to share the newest draft of her short story about "Nails" the roofer. She got the idea from reading an obituary about a roofer who was called "Nails."
Her story bears no resemblance to the deceased in the obit. However, Carly's "Nails" did have an accident and fell off the roof.
Will he live or will he die? Read the story and find out.
Martha, also a blond, got a very short cut b/c she was sick of going back to the hairdressers. We all loved it.
Snitched from Facebook. She presented two poems.... one from the point of view of her eighth-grade granddaughter on the first day of school. The unfinished title had the beautiful word "September" in it.
Her second poem was written to her mentor who likes her "when I don't even like myself."
Unconditional love. That's how it should be.
Beatriz didn't bring any of her pollinator essays to review but as always she gives wonderful feedback to everyone, including moi.
RED RASPBERRY TEA
I cradle the warm tea cup
in my hands
and take tiny sips
the better to
-what?
to savor the taste
we’re not going to be here
forever you know
you’re lucky we all
exist in the same time zone
so we can communicate with one another
Aunt Selma was out of tune
during our last phone call
too old, she said, to attend the
wedding of Gitte and
her high-hatted groom whose
curlylocks fall like fish nets down
his clean white cheeks
Sip your red tea I should have said
and my sister Lynn’s mail-order
boyfriend nearly woke up dead
from unknown causes
in the paradise islands of
sweet-smelling Florida
The tea has a hint of bitterness
are you bitter about what
life has given you?
look not in the tea leaves
or in the clouds
to find out why
Do you wonder where our essence can be found?
Don’t fault me please
but I am too old to care
and cede the world
to the younger crowd
milleniels they call them
Look, I’ve had my turn
it’s only fair
Did you mark that the
spaceship Voyager
has left the solar system?
It will send out signals to
whomever is listening
signals
till the day it die.
MIGRATION
Don’t look now
but the birdbath is rocking
in the backyard
the lead starling
yellow eyes on the side of his head
tells his flock they are safe
in this landing port
They shimmer in the weak sunshine
as they rise and take to flight
on neighboring lawns
I refill the water with my
yellow watering can
and look for feathers dropped
but find not a one
My family has gone to the cape
for their yearly stay
will Max recognize me
when they come home?
I will wear a pretty autumn shirt
with something resembling
sunbursts when I see him
On the front lawn
a movement
another dead leaf
to add to the growing pile?
A small black bird
looks up from the grass
its feathers shimmer
in the weak sunshine
a starling left behind.
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