I seldom use it – the full-length mirror. When I do, it makes me wonder, who is that person?
I’ve had fun with crepe paper. That weird webbing you could stretch. Make it wider and longer. Hung it all over the family room for many a birthday party. So I have crepe skin on my arms. Okay, be honest. In other places too. I understand the term’s origins.
How did my mother climb into that frame? Save your clucking tongue, your “you haven’t changed a bit” comments. I prefer to see my value in other ways. In my husband’s eyes. In my daughter’s forty-seven year old smile. In my forty-five year old son’s weekly calls. In the tik toks and quick texts shared with five grandkids.
I’ll wear capri pants, sleeveless tops, sparkly eye shadow below my thinning brows. I love my almost pure white streak in the midst of my grey hair. Save your tears for somebody else. I’m quite content to be a septuagenarian. The mirror be damned!
Today I’m hosting Tuesday Poetics at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. I’ve asked folks to go to the website https://mybirthdayhits.com and plug in their birth date. The site then gives you the musical hit that made #1 on the charts for every birthday you’ve celebrated until 2021. So for example, if your birthday is today, September 28th and you were born in 1952, you plug in that date and the site will give you the #1 hit for every year on September 28th from 1952 until 2021! AND the site gives you a recording you can listen to as well. Such fun! So the prompt today is to take at least one of the #1 hits from your birthdate and include the song title, word for word, in your poem. You can use more than one #1 hit if you wish. My birthday is May 13th: In 2007, my 60th birthday, the #1 hit was Makes Me Wonder by Maroon 5; in 2021, for my 74th birthday, the #1 hit was Save Your Tears by The Weeknd. You’ll find those titles in my poem today.
This Iowa field, this Iowa day. I stand in the midst of flowers green grasses waving, sun’s warmth soaking my skin. Double hollyhocks stand tall. Gaillardia faces blush, edged in sherbet yellow ruffles. Ethereal clouds float lazily, cotton ball fluffs like white misshapen dots on seersucker blue sky. Newly painted barn gleams surrounded by emerald shrubs, trees and hills. Ah yes, Iowa, you are indeed the heartland, loved by so many.
I’m thrilled to turn seventy-four, let me give that an underscore. Some decry growing old, equate grey hair and wrinkles with creeping mold, and simply cannot be consoled.
Not as nimble with a few pains? Hands mapped in purple veins? Come on people, grab the reins! What more could you ask for than to celebrate one year more with your family and people you adore?
So I’ll put on my tap shoes for a loud dance, blow out the candles at the very first chance. Then I’ll give my husband a meaningful glance and celebrate seventy four with a night of romance!
Written for OLN – Open Link Night – at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. OLN means we can choose any one poem to post today – no specific prompt, form, rhyme scheme, or length. And since today is indeed my birthday, I wrote this little ditty. I do believe it is a privilege to grow old. I continue to be thankful for every day.
bother me with sunlight today, streaming through windows this crisp cool day. Bother me with good news, happiness smiles and a baby’s grin. Bother me with a romantic tale full of daffodil cups, a good merlot and love tendered kisses. Please, do bother me!
Written for Quadrille Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Today De hosts, asking us to use the word “bother” or a form of the word in our poem of exactly 44 words, sans title. Pub opens at 3:00 PM Boston time – come imbibe some words with us! Also posted at Day 19 NaPoWriMo.April is National Poetry Writing Month and the challenge is to write a poem every day of the month.
the day of and days after and after that’s leftovers
like youthful kisses I love those leftovers too
the you and me season after season, still savory good.
Written for dVerse, the virtual pub for poets where today Sarah asks us to write a response to a poem we’ve read in the past year. Below is the poem I modeled mine after. It appears in jelly roll, a collection of poems by African American poet Kevin Young, winner of the Patterson Poetry Prize and Finalist for the National Book Award. I tried to simulate his form and like him, used a type of music as the title. And yes, that’s my husband and I fifty years ago and obviously, much more recently!
I reach for your hand, my love. I seem to do that more often as the days age on. We walk more slowly, notice things more minutely. Outside our window, that jay, perched on winter’s shivering branch. Sky blurs. Sometimes blues to hazy violets. Sometimes shifting reds to soft shades of orange, as day slips into night. There is a truth we cannot deny. The path ahead is shorter than the one we’ve tread. No less glorious, just different. Each time my hand seeks and finds yours, there is quiet reassurance. We are us for another day, another hour, another moment in time.
Photo taken at our beloved annual sojourn in Provincetown, at the tip of Cape Cod.
Falling leaves rustle blown by howling winds. Kaleidoscope of colors swirling like my mind these days. Focus on the moments when sun touches me like kindness. Kindness is more contagious than the virus swirling in the wind. Sun shines down today. Happy am I
Kaleidoscope is written by Lindsey Ein. I’m thrilled to post her poem to my blog today. She’s responded to the Quadrille prompt at dVerse, writing a poem of exactly 44 words that includes the word “happiness” or a form of the word (“happy”). Lindsey is the mother of my very talented son-in-law and belongs to a writing group in Kentucky.