Because it was too much of a hassle,
I decided not to write a poem today.
I had no insights to inject into one
and no wealth of cool words to use
except for the ones from 3WW
and even those were not doing it.
Instead, I hopped on my red bicycle
and pedaled to the beach. I wrote
a letter to my friend who lives in Florida
then read a book for awhile.
I took a picture of an airplane
flying by with an advertising banner
swirling behind saying, “J Greeks
lunch buffet $7.95 11-2.” On my way
back to our campground, I inhaled
the scent of wild roses, admired a field
of clover and buttercups, then sat
on the screen porch typing this nonpoem.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday Scribblings: Life Swap
We are sitting
on our screen porch
at the campground
listening to squirrels
scampering and kids
playing and golf carts
whispering by. Suddenly,
we hear our neighbor’s
piercing voice giving
her husband hell in French.
It’s like taking a hammer
to a row of champagne
glasses and pinging
and smashing every one.
Then her husband’s
banging reply
pounds through the air.
My husband reaches
over, takes my hand
and says, “I’m glad
I got you, Hon.”
on our screen porch
at the campground
listening to squirrels
scampering and kids
playing and golf carts
whispering by. Suddenly,
we hear our neighbor’s
piercing voice giving
her husband hell in French.
It’s like taking a hammer
to a row of champagne
glasses and pinging
and smashing every one.
Then her husband’s
banging reply
pounds through the air.
My husband reaches
over, takes my hand
and says, “I’m glad
I got you, Hon.”
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
3WW: Feign, Imply, Virtue
A woman is walking
her little black dog
in the drizzle
on this gray morning.
The 8:30 Amtrak Downeaster
whizzes by in the distance
taking commuters
to their workday in Boston.
I’m sitting on the couch
in my bathrobe
watching Andy Roddick
feign the direction
of his shot on this third
day of play at Wimbledon.
How lucky I am,
by virtue of summer vacation,
to be lazy in the middle
of the week. Soon, I’ll make
bacon and eggs for breakfast
while my husband
imp(ish)ly tries to cop a feel.
We’ll giggle as I swat
his hands away then, leisurely,
we’ll sip the pleasures of the day.
her little black dog
in the drizzle
on this gray morning.
The 8:30 Amtrak Downeaster
whizzes by in the distance
taking commuters
to their workday in Boston.
I’m sitting on the couch
in my bathrobe
watching Andy Roddick
feign the direction
of his shot on this third
day of play at Wimbledon.
How lucky I am,
by virtue of summer vacation,
to be lazy in the middle
of the week. Soon, I’ll make
bacon and eggs for breakfast
while my husband
imp(ish)ly tries to cop a feel.
We’ll giggle as I swat
his hands away then, leisurely,
we’ll sip the pleasures of the day.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
3WW: Hidden, Noble, Roam
I used to be able to see the sky
with clouds roaming around
poking their noses over the mountain
peering at the sunset
through bloodshot eyes.
But spring happened
and, now, noble trees
stand like kings
blocking my view
with their crowns.
I sit in my class room
contemplating retirement
trying to see the hidden future
through the filigreed leaves
of apprehension.
with clouds roaming around
poking their noses over the mountain
peering at the sunset
through bloodshot eyes.
But spring happened
and, now, noble trees
stand like kings
blocking my view
with their crowns.
I sit in my class room
contemplating retirement
trying to see the hidden future
through the filigreed leaves
of apprehension.
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