Dealing With Death

My latest post for The Space Between arts blog, "Dealing With Death," is up now, featuring my poem "Some Things." Take a look!

The Hall Sisters: Circa 1994

My little sisters and I have been enjoying some much-needed reunion time over the last week or so, as the older of the two recently flew in from Philadelphia to vacation with us.  Our time together has caused me to reminisce and remember the experiences we shared growing up.  This week, in honor of my sisters, I will post three poems celebrating our terrific trio.  Installment no. 3, The Hall Sisters: Circa 1994:

We knew our

whole world

was about to change.

I cried the entire

four-hour trip

to campus

and the two of you

held each other
in the living room

all morning.

We were

letting go of life

as we knew it,

knowing that we

would survive

the changes ahead
but not knowing
exactly how.

We had been together

all of our lives --

through every move,

in every new house

and every new city.

We shared friends and

hobbies and teachers.

Now we would be

in different states

with 207 miles between us.

I opened your letters

like beautifully

wrapped packages

and read each one

between nose blowing

and cheek dabbing.

I think I used

an entire box

of Kleenex

driving up to Michigan,

thankful that I didn't

decide to go to school

in Portland.

Passing Gas at Ponderosa

My sisters and I have been enjoying some much-needed reunion time over the last week or so, as the older of the two recently flew in from Philadelphia to vacation with us.  Our time together has caused me to reminisce and remember the experiences we shared growing up.  This week, in honor of my sisters, I will post three poems celebrating our terrific trio.  Installment no. 2, Passing Gas at Ponderosa:

My little sisters and I were
eyeing the bountiful buffet
when it happened.
I tucked my head under the
overhead glass to get
closer to the cantaloupe
and grabbed a slice
with the plastic tongs.
Attempting to back up
and place the fruit
on my plate, I
bonked the back of
my noggin on the glass,
dropped the orange
melon on the floor
and cut the cheese,
all in the same instant.
Humiliated in my
preadolescent state,
I tried to slink back
to the table and
join our grandparents
unnoticed, despite
the unexpected
backside blast, as my
baby sister yelped:
"WAS THAT YOU?"

Grade School Glories

My sisters and I have been enjoying some much-needed reunion time over the last week or so, as the older of the two recently flew in from Philadelphia to vacation with us.  Our time together has caused me to reminisce and remember the experiences we shared growing up.  This week, in honor of my sisters, I will post three poems celebrating our terrific trio.  Installment no. 1, Grade School Glories:

We did it to
amuse ourselves
during the ride to
my community
softball games.
My little sisters
and I played producers,
creating makeshift
movie stars out of our
afternoon snacks.
We tore our thinly
sliced lunch meat
into strips and gave
them each a name
as we cast our own
mini musicals,
starring Miss Piggy,
Mr. Angus and
Mrs. Gobblet.
Somehow the
dancing pieces of
ham, beef and turkey
kept our attention
until we reached the
ball diamond, where
I would trade my
sandwich meat
for a glove.

(Golden:)

Golden:
A grandmother's love,
like the arms of the sun

Holiday haiku:

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca J. Davenport for a spectacular ending

Dealing With Death

My maternal grandfather, Lindell Lee Jarrett, passed away a week ago today.  Since then, my mind has be occupied with memories, reconnections and recollections with relatives, the big questions of life and death, and (mentally) climbing the family tree -- up and down and back again.  It's amazing how full one's brain can be and -- at the same time -- how empty one's mouth can be.  Sometimes some things silence even those of us with the "gift of gab."

Some Things

Some things
silence the
professional speaker.
Some things
stump the
international intellectual.
Some things
paralyze the
confident wordsmith.
Some things...