Author: lillian

Ursa

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Round haunches, vestigial tail
grizzly when disturbed,
you meander, content and calm
on Denali’s hallowed ground.

Forager by nature
low bush cranberries and blue ones too
two thousand garnered every day
sustenance for a long winter’s sleep.

From sight to paw to mouth,
our approach ignored
until windows fling open
and camera eyes gawk.

Suddenly, like Ursa Major
on guard from on high
you look at us
wee squatters on protected land.

And in that moment,
the lesson is realized.
You are the superior being
of this great mother called earth.

Amazing and magnificent creatures seen in Denali National Park.

In the Midst of Glaciers

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Hubbard 1                       Hubbard remnant

Dare I watch? Dare I breathe in this place,
where Nature’s breath and hand
hath created frozen beauty
over hundreds, nay thousands, of years?

Glaciers appear as still rivers
imperceptible flows of time
dip down from mountains of rock,
those dark monoliths of eternity.

Snow compressed, solidified
centuries of generation after generation
braids of blue crystal rivulets
between boundaries of sky and sea.

We float, this ship of humans,
bodies in the midst of your debris
slabs of flesh among slabs of ice
decades of life dwarfed in age and size.

Bits of time shed from the mother lode,
we, the detritus of humanity
make our way through the field of ice
looking backward as our ship retreats.

We are changed forever by this timeless place
one small ship in a glacier glory land
a fracture
in the eons of time.

Top two photos from aboard our ship, very very close to Hubbard Glacier. We had to move through an ice field from its “calving” — to get close this close — and we were privileged to see it calve — drop a huge mantle of ice with a thunderous sound!!! 

Mendenhall   Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau.Notes below.

us at laughton toeAlmost to the toe of Laughton near Skagway. 

Laughton ice     Laughton’s ice shelf. Melting into glacial stream.

us on stream   Us on hike back down. Notes below.

Mendenhall Glacier near Juneau. We hiked to a beach where we could look across a lake and see this magnificent site.  Next are photos of our hike all the way up to the “toe” of the Laughton Glacier near Skagway. We are standing by a glacier runoff stream — the sound alone was wondrous. Others are of us standing on the toe — incredible that we made it this high — right next to the glacier….you’ll see the ice shelf, crack in the ice.  Truly an amazing hike — exhausting but exhilarating!  We climbed through woods, then over fields of rocks and boulders to get here.  11 miles round trip to Laughton. Alaska: trip of a lifetime!

 

 

 

 

Her Legacy

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It was a short notice.

Helen Cecile is predeceased
by Charles Andrew and Charles Gruenwald Jr,
her husband and son.
God knows, she’d lived the last eight years
impatiently waiting to join them.

It moved with her when she was left alone.
An eight by ten picture from a 1930s Life Magazine
a dark haired young nurse in white cap
surrounded by an aura of glowing light.

Her nurses’ training lasted six months.
Instead of earning a nurse’s pin
she eloped
and eight months later
put my brother to her breast.

The room was empty when I took it down.
Water-stained backing, script barely readable.
My dearest Helen,
No one can take this away from you.
Sister Everista 1937

For sixty years,
she’d kept her dream
in a plastic frame .

Revised from original post on April 17….to no acclaim except my neice’s phone call about this poem, about her grandma. My mom — 

Shadow Me

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Motivator for my Shadow poem

We walk, you in front of me
one created flesh and bone
the other born of sun
elongated faceless gray.

Seamlessly
we stroll the beach
arms out wide, now close in
darkness plays with light.

I stop you stop
your head turns as mine.
We follow a gull’s flight
rising from the sea.

If I turn, reverse my course
will you dance behind,
like the kite that zigs and zags
when its master loosens hold?

Revised, revisited from a very early post. How I love Cape Cod and playing with my shadow!

Dancer Down

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There it was. Audition.
Wanted: 100 dancers
for three months prep
to perform in Boston’s Copley Square.
No experience required.

I did the same thing,
twenty years ago
in Iowa.
Auditioned.
And was selected to perform.
Ninety-nine hoofer-wanna-bees
plus Gene Kelly and me.
Thousands watched us
in the Big-Ten half-time show
or took a trip for hotdogs
and the john.

So I did it. Again.
And made it.
Again.
Ninety-nine plus me
two nights every week.
Loud fast rehearsals
with slow
every day repeats
at home
to video
online.
I should have known.
I was twenty years older
not newer
and certainly not digital.

One month to go.
On our burgundy shag carpet
five-six-seven-eight
and again
right-turn-slide-spin.
Repeat at studio
on unforgiving wooden floor.
Five-six-seven-eight……
Crap.……dancer down.

Legs sag. Muscles be damned.
Relegated to RICE.
Rest-Ice-Compression-and-
– – oh hell. I forget
what the E stands for.

Originally posted on March 23, as Self-Portrait: Dancer Down, just my third post ever….revisited and revised. No Likes then, no comments, two followers (my family members)! 

Alaska: First Glance

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She wears mist like a silk scarf
draped round her foothills,
wisps of white cloud
wrap round her girth,
this Alaskan mountain.

Her legion of honor stand nearby
black spruce, short in stature
strong willed in spirit,
cling to permafrost tundra,
their tenacity and her beauty
reflected in cold still waters.

photo 2      photo 3  Photos taken from our dome topped train ride from Anchorage to Talkeetna, Alaska yesterday.

A Study in Tears

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I cried today
peeling onions
at our black marble countertop
knife chopping
on the old scarred cutting board.
I laughed at myself
as salty tears seasoned diced sweet yellow
enough for two, waiting for your footsteps.

I cried today
walking in the rain
the Charles covered in mist
damp fog coolness on my face,
your absence by my side.
A young couple scurried by
unaware that my tears ached
with rivulets from the sky.

I cried today
in front of our tv
on our corduroy couch
stained by tears on wales.
Cary Grant and Deborah Kerr,
an Affair to Remember
their ending so bittersweet
ours so not.

And I wondered
if anyone,
beyond these walls
could hear
my silent
primal
scream.

Motivated by rereading a prompt from my poetry mentor, Holly Wren Spaulding, in a previous class with her.  Write a poem using “anaphora” —  repetition of a word or phrase. 

Photo Op to Words

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….and she looked at me
frustration in her eyes
anger on her lips
and screamed sooo loud:
Can’t you just somehow,
get all your ducks in a row?

I know, I know. The picture is of geese. But eider way ~ the scene on the Charles and the pun ~ make me smile! Just havin’ a little fun this AM with my morning cup of coffee….enjoy your day 🙂