cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Thanksgiving Book Ends

When Bobby was my only grandchild, he traveled to Mexico with his parents and me for Thanksgiving. Tomorrow morning very early my son Bob, daughter-in-law Linda, grandson Bobby and his brother James fly to Mexico. Bobby is a sophomore in college and his parents expect family vacations may be coming to an end. (They haven’t considered that I’m still enjoying them in whatever form they take.) My son recognized that Bobby will also be the grandchild who rounds out our years together in Mexico. James is probably the second grandchild to begin and now to end the fun. But after Bobby, five other grandchildren arrived pretty close together and we sort of lost track of things.

So, my friends, I’ll be back with new stories to tell – more memories in the making. Happy Thanksgiving!

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Haiku: Brief Run

Summer lingered still
Not yet ready to depart
Autumn knocked on door

Robed in finery
Fiery red, soft apricot
Jack Frost-designed leaves

Wind sent them a-twirl
Beauty carpets patio
Winter’s on the way

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Haiku: Wall Flowers

Summer music stilled
Fragrant breezes play no more
Patio stones cold

People gone inside
Chairs wait for another year
Stacked against the fence

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Haiku: Appetizer

Soft pink candy stripes
Streaking Autumn dawning sky
Delicious morning

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Happy 17th Birthday

We’re at it again
My dear grandson, James
We’ll cook and enjoy
Our Eggs Benedict
I’ll catch up on your news
And share some of mine
We’ll bask in the warmth
Of this special time
We’ll look forward to Mexico
Our Thanksgiving fling
A last family hurrah
We’ll remember it well
As we travel ahead
To your next birthday

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New Math

My life no longer balances
Clutter on my calendar
Stifles what I care about
Time to sort the mess

Addition equals frittering
Subtraction brings tranquility
Peace and beauty come with space
I can do the math

Give me the moon in a darkened sky
Sunbeam silhouettes on my wall
Raindrops’ gleam on windowpane
Leaves attune to season’s change

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Dancing Lessons

Many days I feel there is no poetry in the world to explore. The pink stripes in the sky will reappear with Winter. What will they say to me? The patio has gone through its Autumn transformation. The iron furniture has been stored and the pool is empty. Summer was not the same with endless days when the thermometer hit 90. I don’t mind that it is over. Spring is a distant memory.

Four years ago I wrote of my magical experience watching acres of tulip bulbs being plowed under after they bloomed in the Spring. The soft brown fallow fields shared with me their wisdom. Though the fields were bare they were rich with everything necessary to nurture tulips next season. I felt the pull of being fallow. I wanted to empty my life of all that had busied it and let what was already within me bear fruit. I found freedom and an unexpected gift. I could write poetry.

After moving to be near my family, the new roots I put down have taken firm hold. Life at the Greenbriar is good. I believed I was settled-in once and for all. Now the world has changed in ways I have no words to describe. I’ve stepped back to take a longer view. My mind is awakening to old histories and possibilities of new hope for our future. Once more being fallow will allow me room to grow.

A small miracle happened Sunday while we celebrated World Wide Communion at church. The last hymn of the service was “We Are Walking in the Light of God”, an African Freedom Song. The last verse of the hymn reads “We are dancing in the light of God”. As we sang people began to move about. A friend pulled me from my pew. She and I began to dance in the aisle, making it up as we went along. Other people gave us space. I think they were amazed that two seasoned women were so uninhibited. When the music stopped she and I couldn’t stop laughing. I still feel the glow. The world has surprises I never imagined happening when I am alive to the moment. My new way of being fallow dances to a different beat.

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Haiku: Autumn Overnight

Gold leaves everywhere
Like the end of the rainbow
Leprechauns at play

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Haiku: Autumn’s Echo

Fall creeping slowly
From my window in distance
Few pale yellow leaves

Autumn blaze absence
Off-kilter moral compass
In step with the times

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A New Twist

My apartment building’s intent
Is to be where folk age in place
We covenant to have each other’s back
And enjoy our golden years in peace

An accoutrement worn by most
Is a bracelet-cum-alarm device
That sends out a call to the EMS squad
If its owner suffers a fall

I am an odd-person-out
This bracelet does not suit my style
Reminder of what might possibly be
Cramps the notion I want to live free

Then an accident occurred
Someone fell and could not get back up
Wearing no bracelet she could not call for help
And remained on the floor several days (She’s O.K.)

My son hearing about her dire fate
Questioned where I keep my cellphone
I said “Home in a drawer.” He replied
“Well, you should wear it around your neck.”

Hearing my objections he had an idea.
“Mom, how about getting Alexa?
Then if you fall she can send out the call
And EMS will come out and get ya’.”

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