Grandma's House

 

As a small child, I was put on a train

to Grandma's house every summer,

like an orphan, the porter tipped five dollars

to keep an eye on me.

Clickety-clack, clickety-clack,

away from the sea, into the desert,

to dream away the summer

in the hammock

under the leafy willow tree.

Lake-scented mornings, starry nights,

phantoms dancing in the flames

as Grandma told me Irish ghost stories,
thunderstorms in the afternoon,
Grandma's big laugh,

and a twinkling-eyed Grandpa skulking

across the hall to the bathroom

in his long underwear.....

One day I will board that train again,

hear the haunting whistle blow

its lonely song,
clickety-clack clickety-clack

along the tracks taking me

to Grandma's house once more.

for Shay's Word List: Iron Horse

GRANDMA'S KITCHEN

 

From every corner

of Grandma’s small cottage,

I could hear it –

the old metal clock,

ticking and tocking

on the kitchen windowsill.

Grandma’s house was that peaceful.

My four year old heart drank in

the safety and serenity,

the way a parched sunflower

gratefully receives

summer rain.

Grandma’s house

showed me, child of

drinking and violence,

that another life 

- that peace -
was possible.

I followed that template
for the rest of my life,
and modeled it
for my own grandchildren.

When I am remembering,
it is to this small cottage
on Christleton Avenue
my thoughts return,
like summer swallows.

I can still almost hear
the ticking and tocking
of that metal clock
on the kitchen windowsill,
singing its brave little song
of peace.

for my prompt at What's Going On - Grandma's Kitchen

My sister and I went back to Kelowna in May to find that Grandma's cottage, touchstone of my childhood, is now gone.

Wild Woman's Birthday

British Columbia Photos
Mike Dellio

Wild Woman was born again

in mid-life, the night she stood

on the shore of the western sea,

and knew she was standing exactly where 

she was always meant to be.

She knew it was now or never,

her spirit was sore and sinking fast.

It was either give up on a dream

or make it all come true at last.

When she arrived, a fiery orb
was going down behind the hills.

There was a small whale in the bay;

such perfect beauty: chills.

Wild Woman came alive

that day, which marked Before and After.

It was the birthday of her soul, set free

to the sound of wolfish laughter.

for Susan's prompt at What's Going On : Birthdays. This night was my real birthday! Smiles.

Looking Up

 

The black flies have hit the jackpot:

this old woman in her rocking chair

is like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

***

People begat and begat

and now we are here:
there are days when

humankind looks like

a failed experiment,

a rollercoaster of up and down,

forward and back - a fine madness,

enough to make your head spin.

     ***         

I prefer the company of animals.

Wolves, elephants, dogs, whales,

carry collective wisdom

we would be wise to access.

        ***          

Instead, madmen kill them -

for tusks, for thrills, to prove

they can dominate the innocent,

the helpless, to say

"the world is mine."

***

 It isn't even noon,
and I am oh, so tired.

I turn the radio off,
with all its bad news.
I go outside.
Even blackflies
have to eat.

And I need to watch the sky.

***

This bit of weirdness came from Shay's Word List, after reading a couple of Anne Sexton's edgy poems. My brain took a ramble. 

THE BIGGEST CONTRADICTION OF ALL

 

The biggest contradiction of all
is how,
in a world where
billions of people
pray and talk and sing
and long for unity,
justice, and peace,

the wars go on and on,
the atrocities get
worse and worse,
rhetoric gets more toxic
and inflammatory,
injustices abound,
and peace 
can only be found
and felt
inside one's human heart.

for Sumana's prompt at What's Going On: Contradiction.