WHERE HOPE FINDS ME and WALTZ OF WORDS inspired by assigned poem titles.
BITTER WINTER written to the form of a "luc bac" and inspired by Dick Francis (a favorite author) and Ralph Waite's death.
WHERE
HOPE FINDS ME
My parents bartered choices for a girl.
Should she be Bonnie Blue to Scarlett
born?
Or should she sing and dance with
Mickey Mouse,
A Billie Jean, Annette—no, wait.
Darlene
My name reveals my age with no more
clues.
For middle name, eternal values loomed
Perhaps choose Faith, for mountains
rise to climb
Long-suff’ring Charity presides o’er
all
Make Hope her name, where faith and
love cross roads,
Her map to surety written in her name.
BITTER
WINTER
Bitter February
Within, strands of mem’ry dangle
Frayed cords touch and tangle
Plus and minus wrangle to shock
Dreams, words, and friends may mock
Pounding soul against rock to break
Chips fall away and ache.
Love called my heart awake, then left
Ugly truth caused the theft.
Hope hides and I’m bereft, tears shed
And now Ralph Waite is dead.
A
WALTZ OF WORDS
2/22/14
Dining
tables assigned, the same four practice day after day
With Wanda,
our dance takes no form
Here, she
opens an eye. Yesterday, she said “no,” outraged.
The food
choice brings her voice out of hibernation.
Today, her
spoon scoops all bites into her mouth
Tomorrow
her hand will fall into the plate, painting it as green as peas
For Peggy,
we tap dance to bring words to life.
I say, “The
fish tastes good today.”
Virginia
starts her favorite song. I don’t like fish. My father. . .”
I
interrupt, unwilling to dance to the same song.
Peggy
touches my sleeve. “What are you talking about?
“The fish,”
I say.
“I don’t
know anything about fish.” She brings a flaky bite to her mouth.
Virginia
and I dance on. . .we know
humor . .
.pain . . .love. . .loneliness
For a
magical moment, we mesh,
Our words
floating above the table in a perfect three-step.
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