Thursday, September 12, 2013

postcard poems--august 2013--first ten

#1  The baby's eyes are turquoise and gray,
and when he's wearing navy pinstripe
the color is the same sky as midnight over
Rockaway....we had just met, in a time before 9/11.

#2  Flight
Today I wished my daughter did not
have to move away;
        take grandchildren
to live in Texas, Fort Hood.

#3  Thanks for summer's glint, rey of plum-lit
sweetness; coo and hoot and chortle;  thanks again,
thank you, never enough eras to praise, to say
'thanks' for the wing, this fish, the branch.

#4  Audacious to think I'll write a poem a day
this August - but, I try and today, one more
blossom on the sweetpeas, planted from seeds I
harvested last October, one day after your wedding,
tables in the backyard cleared, harvest moon
already a memory.

#5  Daily News, Alex Rodriquez
Let's dance!  light of the moon
enhances hormones & synapses,
neural communique, everything is lovelier;
so that when he rips it out of the ball park I
won't care about the final score,
sectarian violence, Arod's outs.

#6  The boy, eight or nine,
if alive today, is in his
70's.  (I hope he's alive.)
The man died when I was
in jr. high, McKinley Jr. High;
just a girl, really, a girl with
assignments to write, books
to write, lessons to read.

#7  This morning, on the run, scent of plums, and then
my grandmother appeared beneath the low-hanging
fruit, and I was swept-up within the caress of her arms.

#8  Gemini, twins, duality of bittersweet, 'agrodolce'.
Italian for bittersweet, the both/and that yearns
knowing it cannot have the stars out of reach, the berry
pie wild and sweet, the longing to stay when I know
I must leave.

#9  I say, 'voluptuous'.
You say 'obese'.
I say 'wise crone'.
You say 'dumb bird'.
Yet, see how she floats on her salmon-pink stilts,
the girl from homeland we call water, mud, reed.

#10  Leaving Moab, sun reveals sound of
gnashing, clutch of jawlines eating the ripening moon,
delicate disk caught between the lean-to of August.



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