A Comfortable Spot

My big sister and I shared a room until she decided to go away to college. We used to get into trouble for talking and laughing when we were supposed to be sleeping. When we watched TV, we sat on the floor and leaned against the couch. My father worked shift work so my mom would sometimes take naps. If she was cooking or baking something, she would let us know when to check on it or wake her up. One night she forgot to do that. Vicki and I hit the floor as our mother awoke with a start, screamed "The Cake!" and came over our heads on the way to the kitchen. Vicki was the smart one and the creative one. I was the sports nut. I don't think I ever got her to understand what a first down is. She read Sherlock Holmes first, but I followed. That was the start of our love affair with mystery stories. A few years ago, she sent me a birthday card that said I had become cool. Even at my age, it made me smile that she thought that. Of course, she was still the coolest.

A Comfortable Spot

A comfortable spot
on a bit of a hill
or, perhaps, a knoll
Green grass

Almost in the
shadow of
a church
A children’s
playground
next door
history
all around
Your final
resting place
I wish you hadn’t
moved in so soon

Pinking

You never know what might happen on a morning walk. I remember being disappointed that the sunrise wasn't very colorful on this particular morning. When I turned back to the west to head home the following happened.

Pinking

Did I just see the clouds turn pink?
I haven’t even had a drink!

I’m sure that they were white and gray,

just like any other day.

But, then, they began to glow.

The change wasn’t even slow.

The clouds turned pink before my eyes.

The work of an artist called Sunrise.

Hard to Hear

The third Sunday of every month, a group meets at The Writers Place and discusses a different writer. This month's subject was Anne Sexton. The first time I did a search of her name, I found the following quote:

"Put your ear down close to your soul and listen hard."

Today's post was inspired by that quote. The writing process was facilitated by some awesome singers and musicians I went to hear on St. Patrick's Day.

Hard to Hear

Listen close to your soul.
You can hear a voice
of perfect pitch
and soothing tone.
It speaks to
your every need.
Encourages your
wildest dreams.
Reveals your
deepest beliefs.
Listen hard, and
if you do;
you will hear the voice
that is truly you.

Sun Struck

This poem is a formal structure known as a triolet. It has a specific rhyme scheme and some of the lines are repeated. It is a bargain for the poet, because you only have to write five lines and you have an eight-line poem. This one was written in memory of my sister and is included in my chapbook of grief poems-"I Keep You with Me" (See February 19 post).

Sun Struck

The brightness of the sun
hurts my eyes and my heart.
I am completely undone
by the brightness of the sun.
It highlights the loss of one
who has been there from the start.
The brightness of the sun
hurts my eyes and my heart.