I want you to know
you have fulfilled
all my dreams for you
all my expectations
you are everything
I hoped
From the first
When you opened
your eyes
the baby in my arms
There was no way
for you to fail
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Friday, July 16, 2010
Great Blizzard 1978
I don't know if I was in Salem in 1978 but Steven and I went back when he was three. I was that homesick. There had been a huge storm. Bigger than my family had ever seen. We had no winter clothes (coming from Phoenix) and the family rushed around gathering clothes for us....Boots, winter jackets, sweaters, long socks, etc. The snow drifts covered the doors.
My cousin's husband picked us up at the airport because my dad had not yet been able to get his car out. Ron parked at his house because he would not have been able to turn around in the snow to get back to his house. My dad made me take his winter coat he didn't want me to be cold even though we were just down the street a little bit. We argued about it. Then Ron winked and whispered something about the pride of old people so I took the coat.
We had to go in the back door because my dad had not cleared a path to the front yet. A day or two later, Steven helped helped his grandpa dig out the driveway (he was three).
Hillside Avenue was covered in Pelletier's whether they carried the name or not. It was a well loved hill. Across the street and down aways lived Ron and my cousin Janet. Next door to them lived my cousing Linda, her husband and their three boys (they provided the winter clothing for Steven). Down the hill from us lived my Aunt Adrian and Uncle Omer.
That was the year I started thinking of Ma and Dad as old. They were in their sixty's. They were retired.
My cousin's husband picked us up at the airport because my dad had not yet been able to get his car out. Ron parked at his house because he would not have been able to turn around in the snow to get back to his house. My dad made me take his winter coat he didn't want me to be cold even though we were just down the street a little bit. We argued about it. Then Ron winked and whispered something about the pride of old people so I took the coat.
We had to go in the back door because my dad had not cleared a path to the front yet. A day or two later, Steven helped helped his grandpa dig out the driveway (he was three).
Hillside Avenue was covered in Pelletier's whether they carried the name or not. It was a well loved hill. Across the street and down aways lived Ron and my cousin Janet. Next door to them lived my cousing Linda, her husband and their three boys (they provided the winter clothing for Steven). Down the hill from us lived my Aunt Adrian and Uncle Omer.
That was the year I started thinking of Ma and Dad as old. They were in their sixty's. They were retired.
Monday, July 12, 2010
CATS
Cats cough up hairballs
shed hair and puke.
People clean it up.
Cats stay away from babies.
Babies pull hair,
twist ears and poke fingers
into tender eyes and noses.
Babies have fun
Cats don't
When babies do.
Cats shred couches also newspapers.
People get mad.
Cats don't care.
Cats are attracted to people
who watch television or read books.
People chuckle.
Cats get their ears scratched
Cats are attracted to people
who are sick or dying.
it makes people feel less alone.
I don't know what the cats get out of it.
shed hair and puke.
People clean it up.
Cats stay away from babies.
Babies pull hair,
twist ears and poke fingers
into tender eyes and noses.
Babies have fun
Cats don't
When babies do.
Cats shred couches also newspapers.
People get mad.
Cats don't care.
Cats are attracted to people
who watch television or read books.
People chuckle.
Cats get their ears scratched
Cats are attracted to people
who are sick or dying.
it makes people feel less alone.
I don't know what the cats get out of it.
Your Words Tell Me
what to do
what to say
what to know
lift me up
put me down
letting me cry
You whisper secrets
I need to know
I smile
weep
laugh
sing
You hold my hand
brush my tears
sing the song
I wrote for you
what to say
what to know
lift me up
put me down
letting me cry
You whisper secrets
I need to know
I smile
weep
laugh
sing
You hold my hand
brush my tears
sing the song
I wrote for you
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Stick Children
stick children skate on ice
tiny figures with fluffy red hats
on the edge of a crystal pond
boys build a fire,
roast marsh mellows crispy,
parents stand in groups around a frozen pond
they shout out to them the way parents do
Belinda baby, be careful you might fall
Andrew don’t let your ankles touch the ice
Don’t trip on Tracy’s scarf , Sally Mae
out of the side of her mouth,
Andrew’s mom tells Mrs. Shaw,
Andrew has weak ankles-ya know,
but I think he will grow out of it
little folks pull sleds an inch at a time up
white covered mounds
a group of boys practice playing ice hockey
with their older brother’s sticks and pucks
in the foreground the skeletons of seven
swing sets stand bare of swings
stripped for the winter months
slides and monkey bars go unused
snow and ice are now
the playground toys
hills and sleds more fun
cars parked in the lot
rusted chains on tires
snow topping the roofs
steam coming from hoods
a blue purple sky tops
a black outline of white
snow over pale blue
ice while an orange sun
shines in the distance
giving light on a cold winter day
My Dentist
wider
don’t move
hold on
just a moment longer
you are okay
you’re doing fine
play the music
louder
if the noise
disturbs you
I’m sorry
for the taste
the pain
are you sure
that hurts
it isn’t supposed
to
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