First of all, the book has a real POCKET in it from the Abington Free Library. We get a firm warning about losing the library card, even tho we don't use em anymore.The author of SOON wrote about very strange characters, including one very miserable Martha, behated by everyone. Lemme look up the author - Pam Durban - she is good.
Yesterday I finished a story by Michael Byers. The married couple had two children. The little girl Nadia had a high fever 103, then 104, and the couple refused to take her to the doctor. It was so suspenseful if she'd live or die.
They were gonna take a trip to Perth, Australia.
In the back of the book were fascinating writer's bios of why they wrote each particular piece. In our last Compass - the 2017 - I did ask our poets about where they got their ideas.
Now I've gotta look up E Annie Proulx, the first editor. Hold on please.
She's 81 today! Reader, where would YOU like to visit? New Zealand got high marks for improving their WATER problem. In our American west and southwest they haven't done nuffin to help with the drought problem.
When I watched that on TV, I went downstairs and poured myself a huge glass of water. Years ago when my kids bought me my new fridge - for my 58th b'day - I wrote a terrific poem about it.
I make a point about poetating about everything!
Here's what I wrote about eating at the kids' house last night.
AFTER DINNER WALK
At Easter the world
wakes up. Flowering trees
lean their shoulders
across the road and
carpets our cars.
After the succulent
ham, sweet potatoes,
fresh green beans
that crunch
and a dollop of
mac and cheese
we go for a walk.
Max in helmet
sped off before
Dan or I got
out the door.
Destination, Max?
I called as my sandals
pattered to catch up.
Carroll Avenue, he said,
brown eyes shining. His
sister Grace, relaxing
at home with Mom,
had explored this
odd steep street
where every house
had a personality
all its own.
Max, a nascent real
estate agent, with
fashionable short hair,
stopped at each house
to speak his piece.
Look, Bubby, look
how tall it is or
throwing down his
scooter he laughed
at the fenced in
barking dogs.
Afraid? Not at all.
Which one would you
like, I asked.
The little one, he said.
Me, too, said I, as we
looked at a smiling
miniature poodle with
curious eyes and well-coiffed
hair. I imagined him sitting
on my lap on my red couch
barking every time Roxy or
Kalie or Chico passed by.
Max wanted to see the orange trucks
at the top of the hill. Up up up
we trudged till a barbed wire
fence stopped our progress.
Orange trucks: SEPTA? Asplundher?
Max sped downhill, Dan yelling SLOW DOWN
but Max is a careful young man, four
years old, who stopped behind cars
just as sister Grace had.
Chelfield? I asked as we rounded the
corner toward home. Claudia's house?
Dan dropped us off as Claudia and Barry
let us in.
Oh I like that! said Max about a picture
of a train leaning against the wall. Matzoh
awaited Reid and Beryl. Talk about crunch!
Max rubbed his eyes, clearly tuckered out.
We sailed on home and we did our waving
ritual.
Bye Bubby, he said from the dining room window, as I backpacked my way to the car, holding the detour directions in my hand and mouf.
Found it fine, passing with a grumpf the dialysis center, Papa John's pizza - on Easter? why not and then finding GO, my very
own home. The thrill never gone. Dyou feel that way Patrick?
HEY did I tell you what Max said over the phone?
What's different, I asked him, about turning four?
Well, he said, I still like cars and fire engines and snakes.
I learned that neighbor Bud found a huge snake in his backyard. Max went to see him. What a treat!
Okay, gotta write a few postcards today. Mary left for Dallas so I'll surprise her with a card. Oddly enuf, my bad back in not hurting. Usually I plop myself on the floor and exercise for 10 minutes. I'll do it anyway.
Oh, I found a great new song while listening to WXPN.
Linda Smith's I So Like Spring. Here it is.
Today I will spend many hours submitting.
In the middle of the nite I got ideas for new short stories and wrote em down on my messy bedside table.
I also couldn't stop myself and ran downstairs to grab a hunk of Nicole's ham. Brought it to bed and munched. But I only like to eat in bed if I'm watching something on TV.
Found a great show about a FRIAR ALESSANDRO who was singing in his big tenor voice at the same church where St Francis of Assissi had preached..
HUGGING OUR COUSINS GOODBYE
Compressed into two days
we ate our last supper
on Holy Saturday, the
moon nearly full.
We munched leftovers,
our wine spilleth over
and awaited dessert,
insulin needle
at the ready.
Here it cometh!
Chocolate Mint Chip
Fresh from the freezer
as if the moo-cow had
just wandered down
the road.
Bern, so good to see
you, exclaimed Mother
Mary, flanked
by her two boys -
Cooper and David -
and daughter Jill.
Mom and Mary made
mom's famous sweet n
sour meatballs, with
a crunch of water
chestnuts, as the
darkness flowed
like fine wine
around our house.
Mary walked me to
the car. When she
stayed at Cooper's
while her house
was being refurbished,
they sat out in the
backyard watching
the stars.
An app on his computer
named The Milky Way
Mars, Venus and all the
visible stars as
they watched in wonder.
As they were about to
go inside, a shooting
star appeared and who
should be riding it
like a wave: Brian
Wilson? The Little
Surfer Girl or Our
very own Jesus?
***
LILACS IN MY LIFE
They're up!
And out to the backyard
I rushed, touched,
sniffed, sniffed again,
cut and put in a Stout
beer bottle, tilting
here by my side.
Carl Yeager, artist, would
say: What can I do with this?
Wallace Stevens wrote
13 Ways of seeing a black bird.
My own lilacs will be my
daily companion. Where'ere
I go, they will come
with.
Appreciation is what
they want! Have you
marked their leaves?
Heart-shaped. Is this
all a dream? Am I
really here? I blink
my eyes but I don't
go away. As long as
the lilac's here,
so am I.
No comments:
Post a Comment