Yet another Garbage Night Poem - My Living Garden - and preview of my new mostly true story Dear Stephen

Coincidences! Ed Quinn takes a meditation class with wife Sharon at Pennypack Trust. Somehow he met Marie Wiggins and gave her an old copy of The Compass.



She emailed me asking if we still meet at the Giant.

I explained it's now a Biergarten so we meet at the home of Beatriz Moisset.


Here's Fran Bareikis Pulli and the late Kym Cohen, who refused to cave in to cancer. But it stalked her and she finally succumbed after a valiant battle.

When she first told us her prognosis - fatal - I, for one, knew she wouldn't make it and tried to remember her.

When Marie told me she lived on a neighboring road I could not believe the coincidence! Putting on my sneakers, I began the long walk.

We spent time on the back porch, which has windows on three sides. What a great view!

I was sipping on iced tea. Unsweetened. I rarely drink it. It's the national drink in Texas where I lived when I was married to the late Mike Deming.

Had dinner at The Giant. An everything salad. The coffee counter was closed and I wanted my coffee!

Hot and strong and burning my tongue if I wasn't careful. 

 Kayla, where art thou?  Kathy where art thou?  It did close early.

Then I had an idea.

Went to the huge cooler and found

  French Vanilla by Starbucks. A bit pricey but I was desperate for a fix.

The hatcheck girl opened it for me and I drank it on the way home while listening to an audio book where the villain was murdering an old lady.

Older even than me!

Sent an email to my group about today's Tavis Smiley Show. 

Great program, I wrote, on Tavis Smiley on PBS, which I just watched.

Two commercial pilots discuss their decades-long struggle against racial discrimination within the airline industry.

Capt. Johnnie E. "JET" Jones

As a driving force behind the United We Stand For Diversity coalition, Capt. Jones served in the Air Force for more than 20 years between 1972-95. He joined United Airlines in 1988.

Capt. Ken Haney

This Army veteran and recipient of the Bronze Star Medal for heroism in combat during Desert Storm joined United in 1992. More recently, he is founder and chairman of Texas Air Shuttle and the soon-to-launch Bay Area Shuttle (iflybas.com)

Watch the show here.

On Saturday, we'll return to our regular sked of our Writers' Group at B's house.

Marie will be our newest member. Here's her blog. The name is Cardinal Touch.

So, it's now 4:30 AM, darn, and Ruth... you're getting tired, tired, tired.... actually I slept about half an hour while Ed Slott ranted about keeping Uncle Sam away from our money.

What money, says Ruth Deming.

Wrote a short piece called Dear Stephen and have sent it to my readers for feedback.



Wait a minute! Are those birds chirping?

Rick Steves is smoking pot in Amsterdam.

Any poems for us, Ruthie?



MY LIVING GARDEN

It changes every day
Waist-high yellow woodland poppies
came up this year
why, we don't know.

Am waiting for the
newly planted red poppies
safe from the mower's blade

As are the tiny animal
statues reclining in
their peaceable kingdom

The squirrel's okay with us
He can do no damage. The
deer's at repose beside the
poppies he cannot eat.

A pinwheel spins in the
wind as the dandelions
do their duty and send
their proselytizing
puffs across neighboring
yards.

Soldiers in the service
of a benign living army. 

Before I post yet anudder Garbage poem, here's what I did tonight.

Was talking to mom on the phone and walking up n down my street. She was ranting about her friend Judy who is suffering horribly. Her therapist/nurse practitioner dismissed her.

Look! if she can't make you better, go to someone else.

I stopped in to my next-door neighbors, the Adams family, specifically to talk to Eileen. She was arranging her jewelry. Rings, earrings, necklaces, bracelets and broaches.

Take anything you want, she offered. I didn't want anything!

They have a brand-new kitchen which is fantastic! Paint is a subtle shade of gray. 

GARBAGE NIGHT

A dog barks
Kalie
Earlier a dog
party was held
atop a green hill

Chico kept running
back and forth crossing
the street without looking

Osbourne's black tail
wagged as he went after
the tiny black poodle

Hate has no home on
Cowbell Road

The curbs have taken on
a new dimension
a new purpose
songbirds keen proudly

A rainbow of garbage
cans are lugged, dragged
or wheeled to the curb

Out with the old:
clusters of dust
from Miss Bissell
used Novolog pens
and a Styrofoam
multipack that will
rot in the landfill
in the next million years

Risktaker that I am
I wanna discard something
daring, something I will
brood about and then
forget about.

The deed is done.
A wooden spoon that
could be made into
an Amish doll
An ice cream scooper
but I no longer eat
Dole sorbet or
butter pecan.

We change as we grow
older and one day
my house will be bare