Last Night

Tuesday April 5, 2011

Last night
we went to Sinibaldi's.

They offered a special:
Delmonico steak, potato,

vegetable, and roll for $7.75.
So, that's what we both had.

I substituted fried
rice for potato. My husband

had pickled beets
and I had coleslaw.

And that was it.
There was nothing

special about the meal
or the night.

Just a busy Monday.
I hadn't gotten home

until five and hadn't had
time to go to the IGA.

So, my husband said,
"Let's go out to eat."

And I said, "Sure."

Rising Early

Thursday June 9, 2011

Rising Early

I looked out my bathroom
window at the just lightening
sky and saw fog hanging
in the valley.

After my shower I looked
out, again. The mist
was lifting and clouds
we're getting coppery.

I got dressed then went
downstairs, grabbed my
camera, went out onto
the back porch

and took some pictures
of the sun trying
to burn through the haze.
Then, I turned around

and saw my granddaughter's
striped sundress
hanging on the line
and just had it snap a few

pictures of its bright
colors putting an exclamation
point on this first
paragraph of my day.

3WW: Affair, Expectation, Free

Sharp slices
of brightness
slash my morning
blinds.

I'm sitting in bed
with no expectation
of anything
for today.

Free hours
are maple syrup
sticky and sweet.
I should get up,

open the blinds,
make breakfast.
Instead, I've begun
an affair with laziness.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Nearly for Sunday Scribblings

Nearly

It’s 17 degrees right now.
Our valley is a bathtub
of sun and father winter
put a fan in the window

blowing icy air all around.
I hung my sheets
on the back porch clothesline,
anyway. All morning

I’ve been watching them
tango, first stiff-legged
but gradually bending
in soft dips and whirls.

They’re nearly dry. Soon,
I’ll carry all that freshness
upstairs and make my bed
with sun and wind.

Big Tent Poetry: Wordle

Here are the words we are challenged to use.  I managed just a few.



My husband is awake.
I can hear the water running
in the bathroom

and the radio blaring.
I might have time
to write this poem.

I'm sitting in the lush,
early morning sun
as it is forklifted

from behind the mountain
on this our last Thanksgiving
in the cold north.

Soon I'll cook apple maple
chicken sausage, poached eggs,
and toast 7 grain sprouted-

wheat Ezekiel bread. I'll
smother it all with hollandaise
sauce. We'll sit cupped

in the palm of this day. I
hear footsteps on the stairs
and my poem is done.

Day 19 and ReadWritePoem

The prompt this week is to write a poem of 5-10 lines about something that brings us joy and write another poem of the same length about something that makes us mad then combine them alternating lines.

Oil and Vinegar

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Something that brings me joy

I take the curtains
out of the washing machine,
shake them, then toss them
over my shoulder

their Downy perfume
flying around the cellar.

I hang them from the clothes line
on the back porch. They kick
up their heels
and jitterbug all afternoon.

--------

Something that pisses me off


We sit in the warm April
evening on our front porch
talking quietly about our day,

listening to kids playing,
motorcycles revving,
neighbors barbecuing.

The scent of charcoal
waltzes on the breeze.

Across the street, a guy
in a wife-beater shirt,
beer in one hand,
stands against the house
and urinates.

----------

Combined

In the warm April evening
I take the curtains out of the washing machine
We sit and talk quietly on the front porch
Shake them, then toss them over my shoulder
listening to kids playing
their Downy perfume
motorcycles revving
flying around the cellar
neighbors barbecuing
I hang them from the clothesline
The scent of charcoal
on the back porch
waltzes on the breeze
They kick up their heels
Across the street, a guy in a wife-beater shirt
jitterbugging all afternoon
stands against the house and urinates.

Day 11 and Writers' island

Flights of Fancy

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -


A simple house
near the ocean
white curtains
sashaying
to a rock ‘n’ roll
breeze

Big bookcases
a small TV
a poetry book
open on my
grandfather’s
trunk

me
on a red bicycle
curls bouncing
under my visor

I can’t pedal
fast enough
to the beach

Now and Then

Sunday Scribblings December 30, 2007
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Then and Now

In 1980
we unplugged
our TV
and put it in the closet.

Suddenly, our home
was alive
with human interaction.
We played cards,
read books,
talked,
swung,
rode bikes,
laughed.

No more electric
waves piercing
us with arrows
of poisoned
programming.

No more stupefied
kids sitting
with thumbs
in their mouths,
blank looks
on their faces,
cotton batting
in their brains.

Tonight, I’m sitting
here in the living
room with my laptop
open; my husband
is watching
Combat Zoneon the Military Channel.

Our home is filled
to bursting
with canned words
and music
leaving no space
for us.

We haven’t spoken
in two hours.

All I hear is the pt pt pt
of a machine gun
shooting bullets
right through the screen.