memories

A Study in Tears

lillian10 Comments

photo

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. 

Mirror Image egamI rorriM

lillian8 Comments

I stand here, you there
separated by a chasm of disbelief.

I know me, I feel me.
Who then, are you?

You must be from another place
or time or universe.

When I turn my head away,
will you laugh at my derision?

Will you reach out,
pat my back and mutely say 

There there, you’ll be alright.
Are you sympathetic to what I see?

My memories are inside of me,
hidden to the outside world.

I do not wear them for all to see.
Why then, do you?

luxurious-mirror-1422353

Photo by Torli Roberts

 

Even Song

lillian11 Comments

green tent

Plop
Patter
Ping
Slow steady nocturnal rain
taps on the yellow-green ceiling
of my ancient canvas tent.
Comfort seeps in as I burrow deep
in my cocoon zippered bag,
crisp cold nose, just outside the seam.
Lids shutter slowly as ears perk to listen.
Thoughts float in a cool haze.
A hooting owl sits sheltered
by spring’s green-yellow canopy.
The drip, drop, patter
plops above its feathered head.
Dreaming now,
a moon sliver guides me
to a sleep moment of clarity.
These rain notes are nature’s evensong.
A prayer
for all who sleep in this forested place.

rain-233545_1280

Revised from one of my very first poems written in February, in my first class with Holly Wren Spaulding. Posted so early in March (as Rain Song) , I doubt but five people saw it!
UPDATE:  I am in Alaska, as you read this! Will be posting every other day for two weeks until I return.  Mostly new — poems that is — although I will be rejuvenated (love that word!) even more upon my return to Boston, our city by the sea.

Hawaii Lava Walk

lillian3 Comments
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

The earth belches and spews forth her fury.
Oh Pele, goddess of volcanoes,
your power and passion are evident
as you hiss and ooze red-hot anger.

You are the earth’s psyche
and we the defiant trespassers,
over cracks and fissures
glass-sharp edges of your hardened crust.

Arrogant though we are
we step gingerly,
awed by your magnificence
as we retreat to cooler ground.

Posted in response to the Daily Post Photo Challenge:  Beneath Your Feet.  Photos from our 2005 Lava Walk on the Big Island in Hawaii.  A once in a life-time experience, to feel the volcano beneath our feet!

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

What’s in a Shoe?

lillian7 Comments

They sit behind closed closet doors
in back of the shoe rack, gathering dust.
Two-toned in black and white,
four inch heels to elongate the leg
toes so narrow their tips turn up
after years of emptiness.
Ground-in talc mottles the inside
used oh so many times to smooth the sole,
pressure points etched in long dried sweat
from happier bare legged days.

Witness to her previous life
they sat primly crossed in corporate talks
hid behind podiums and knelt at pews
clicked down hallways, sat quietly grieving
in cold rooms filled with overwhelming floral scent,
danced at weddings and stood higher still,
tips of heels up off the floor
for a lifetime of New Year’s kisses.
These Spectators, aptly named
sit waiting to see the sun again.