A Boston Tradition

lillian16 Comments

Mother’s Day. Exhausted, incredulous. Home from the parade, she sat sipping sherry, flipping through albums. Pictures of children covered in yellow feathers. Thirty years of moms pushing buggies, pulling wagons, kids quacking.

Roberta surprised her this year. Came cross-country for this Boston tradition. And her costume! She manipulated poles so the wings stretched six feet above the crowds. More like a chicken but no mind. She drew oohs and ahs.

Mrs. McCloskey smiled through tears. Make Way for Ducklings, Caldecott book and so much more. How proud her father would be. His legacy for this city’s children and the world!

luther-siler

100 words. Written for Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ Friday Fictioneers. Rochelle provides a photo for a 100-word story. Tales vary widely. Photo this week is by Luther Siler.
Make Way for Ducklings by Robert McCloskey, first published in 1941. A Caldecott Medal Winner it motivated a popular sculpture in Boston’s Public Gardens of Mrs. Mallard and her ducklings, and the annual mothers’ day Ducklings parade.

Moments

lillian3 Comments

Wayward cells grow
the shy speak, the far come near
love surrounds as body dissipates
defiance gives way to destiny
present dissolves from gift to waiting place
angels kneel, ushers ready to rise,
battle almost won.
His tears, moist on her parched lips
she rattle sighs
and her spirit soars.

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Lily Lake

lillian3 Comments

Mid-August.
Car piled full, city girl to rural job.
Staccato palms on steering wheel,
radio Oldies defiantly blares
Summer in the City.

Turn round rural route bend,
foot shifts to brake
shocked by Monet view.
Signal to shoulder, sit mesmerized.
Amana Colonies serenity.

Green velvet leaves blanket still waters,
delicate yellow petals undisturbed
as slick-backed frog leaps pad to pad
finally rests,
centered in quiet setting sun.

KONICA MINOLTA DIGITAL CAMERA
photo credit: Kevin Abbott

December Challenge, Day 5: Start with time/when. Write about a body of water you remember. Include specific details.

 

Sweet Times

lillian7 Comments

Fourth grade mimic,
knee socks rolled down to puffy anklets
like sophisticated high school girls.
Three nickels clink and plunk,
bus fare to my Saturday dream.
Past Neisner’s Five and Dime
where the mynah bird sqwaks at little fingers,
guards balls and jacks in the wooden cubby.
One aisle over from ladies cotton underpants.
Past Durkin and Durkins, that grown-up place
where daddy buys one suit, every other year.
And there it is, bakery supreme.
Plastic number thirty-four, I wait and wait.
One chocolate éclair please.
Deep, yellow, cold, smooth custard
slathered between puffy sweet dough,
cut in uneven halves. Lips first lick
dark chocolate swirled on top.
Nothing ever tasted so good,
standing on linoleum floor
in black and white saddle shoes,
knee socks rolled down.

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Photo Credit: Daniel West. Day 3 Winter Poetry Challenge: Write about a candy or something sweet that you loved as a child.

The March

lillian24 Comments

He watched in amazement from the fifth floor window. He told Melinda it would never work. Her eyes damp, remembering.

But they were coming in droves. From the subway stop. Riding bicycles. Pushed in strollers. In school uniforms and ragged jeans. All colors. All sizes. Children of hope, many with handmade signs.

Hundreds bowed their heads in prayer, and then began to walk from the old Transportation Building to City Hall. Melinda held the banner high. No More Hurting People. Peace Now. Her locket caught the sun and gleamed at him. Their son’s picture within the small gold heart.

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98 words. Written for Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.  Photo by Roger Bultot.

Battle

lillian8 Comments

They boil in hatred,
witness disregard of life
violence erupts.

She simmers in pain,
cancer invades her body,
prayer uplifts her soul.

December Poetry Challenge, Day 1: Write a two phrase poem: begin by looking out and away from yourself. What do you see, hear, find? Then narrow your gaze, almost as if you were tightening the focus on a movie camera. What’s close at hand? Make these two elements speak as one poem. Employ brevity. Dedicated to a dear friend.