The Back Corner for Poetry Monday

In the end the burial plot was not

what she had expected.

I guess she was not sweet

and kind.

The shot gun she protected 

her child and land with

stood in the corner of the kitchen

ready.

Grandpa had been taken

to a safer place they said

so when she died

the place she was to be buried

had already been taken.

You will find her in the back

corner.

I think she was happier

there anyway.

True story. 

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The Commitment...RV the Cat

But first...

you must commit.

Every soul needs

A commitment

Even the cat.

Ours came from a trailer park

Far away in Texas.

It was not fancy...

the Trailer Park I mean.

He was black and ferocious

Surviving on his wits.

But the commitment was

What he yearned for.

We loved him

even as he scratched to escaped 

And marked the corner.

We thought to name him after

The cage that brought him to

Oregon

And commit we did.

RV we called him.

We memorized him

and his name

Gone now, missed

But not forgotten.

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Magpie Tales #35 Fall Poetry...Traveling Books!

Leaves were gone

On that wintry day

Yet

Painted images remained.

They told tales of

Rain and wind,

Feet tramped over

Frozen veins of

Hidden color.

Sidewalk to

Nowhere became

Gallery of

What was

And

What will be.

We will be leaving our beautiful northwest home soon.  Oak leaves fall on the sidewalks and the first rain will bleed their color onto the concrete.  They are then very much like negatives of a beautiful summer picture.  I will miss the smell of things growing.  Good bye Oregon.

I will be packing my books of poetry (Mary Oliver New and Selected Poems) and reference material that I cannot do without (Malcolm Gladwell The Tipping Point and Blink).  My kindle will store my other books...except the one I am currently reading, The Echo Maker.)

Have a lovely day...I need to go and get packing.  Really, I do!

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Spider Webs of Life

 Devian Art 

arielundrdasee

If an aging spider were to spin its web

Across my mind

let it be a blanket of

warm remembrance.

If an aging spider were to make a home

In my shoe

Let it be a spider that

Loves adventure.

If an aging spider were to come

To live by my side

Let it be a book spider

Spinning words in the air.

If an aging spider were to

Whisper in my ear

Let the words be

A plan for life to come.

Beautiful loops of

Fanciful dreams

Spun by a aging spider

Just for us.

Written for One Single Impression and Monday Poetry Train.

Writing and poetry are hobbies that I began to pursue after I retired.  Come and join me.

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