Woman of the Word

for Julie Jarrett Hall

I remember walking through the backyard
behind our little brick house, singing the lines
to your songs during my afternoon playtime.
I felt important, knowing all the words and
the melodies. Proud of myself, I sang the
verses and choruses out loud, feeling some
sense of connection with your songs and
with you. On those hot summer days, I was
proud of myself, proud of you and proud
to be your daughter.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Presents from Dad

He was so excited to bring "surprises"
home to us, whether it was a $5 movie
from McDonald's, Sam's Club chocolate
chip cookies, or a two liter of Dr. Pepper.
My sisters and I would laugh at him
and try to downplay his "treats," but it
was his simple, silly, contagious joy
that made the best gift of all.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(mention of the "M word")

mention of the "M word"
giving me the shivers
on Rosa's couch

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(I love this morning)

I love this morning --
tea, toast, cheese, apple
and poetry to start the day.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(how I know that)

how I know that
she's awake: her
trademark sniffle

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

(I am writing poems and crying)

I am writing poems and crying --
so thankful for words and for
love and for loving words.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

A Beautiful Sisterhood

for Lindsay and Joanne

There is nothing like the
tender kindness of a sister,
the delicate care of a friend.
I had never known this kind
of joy

before now,

this kind of pure delight that
frees my heart to be me in the
fullness of beauty and to rest
in the able arms of sisterhood.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Taste of Adulthood

"Why do I like coffee
so much?" I wonder, from
time to time. Perhaps
it's because Mom and
Dad drank it routinely
while I was growing
up. It seemed like
such an "adult" drink --
a special, yet necessary
treat -- with milk and
sugar each morning.
Or maybe because it
reminds me of my
college years --
discovering mochas,
hazelnut lattes, the smell
of espresso and the cool
coffeehouse culture.
I was finally a grown-up
enjoying the taste of
adulthood for myself.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

The Beauty of Music

Unlike former fashions, old albums
never go out of style. I can pop a
CD in the player that smacks of
poodle skirts, bell-bottoms, leg
warmers or leather pants without
worry of how that might reflect on
my personal fashion sense. Music
bursts through barriers of time and
trend. It cannot be contained or
confined to years, decades or centuries.
Music lives on, as long as you play it.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Poet for a Day

I traded my corporate
cubicle for a sophomore
literature class for the day,
reading selections for the
high school students in
my teacher friend's first,
second and fourth
periods, as a guest poet.
Afterward, I spent the
afternoon at a bookstore,
reading the work of
professional poets and
dreaming of the day
that it will be my turn.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

The Dancing Queen

She taught us what it meant to
be married to melody -- singing
and dancing across the linoleum
floor, sometimes lip-syncing and
sometimes belting out the lines
with gusto. My sisters and I sang
into hairbrushes with a sparkle in
our eyes, while the vinyl spun
'round and Mom reigned as queen
of the dining room dance floor.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Slow Down

Sometimes people let caffeine
get the best of them. They walk
around like they've got bees
in their britches, like the world
is going to expire if they don't
stomp down the halls at lightening
speed. Some days I fear being
trampled to death, while in the
path of someone on the warpath
to a corporate meeting. Unless
it's a "dire emergency" -- the term
my sixth grade teacher,
Mrs. Brewer, used to refer to
restroom urgencies -- or,
heaven forbid, your loved one has
been in a terrible accident, there
is no need to walk like a power
walker on a mission (unless, of
course, you are a power walker
doing your workout routine). The
fault does not necessarily lie in
the hands of espresso addicts, but
perhaps with American culture
as a whole. Maybe if we all
slowed down enough to see the
chaos we create for ourselves,
we would actually be productive.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall

Roommates Who Write

We meet in the kitchen --
she for her cereal and
me for my soup --
sharing a few words
before we retreat to
our respective quarters
and continue our writing.

© 2007 Amy E. Hall