cronechronicler

Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Haiku: Passing Time

Days move slower now
Crawling at a turtle pace
Time to smell a rose

Weeks go charging by
Rapid rabbits hop along
Where did my time go?

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Summer Music

Sound of splashing in the pool
Early swim begins the day
Across the road loud lawnmower whirrs
Rains of late made grasses grow
Radiant flowers everywhere
Quietly bloom each one a song

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Company’s Gone Home

Summer came inside today
Windows opened wide
Cooling breeze a welcome guest
Heat wave passed with holiday
Hugged relatives and said goodbye
Quiet is settling in

Squirrel is lounging on a branch
Hidden by green oak tree leaves
Cardinal heard but bird not seen
Wind chimes and lovely laughter sounds
Music charming to my ears
Today is calm and bright

Sparkling blue of swimming pool
Invitation to dive in
Turn onto my back and float
Let cares drift away
Old cliché but useful here
Too lazy to create.

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Redefinition

To make an end is to make a beginning
The end is where we start from

T.S. Eliot

Thanksgiving time three years ago
A sudden meltdown shock occurred
Within my gathered family
Exposing long forgotten faults
We could not comprehend
Or figure how to heal
Youngest son’s deep woundedness

Two years more time passed
Again we were together
As a family at the beach
Stroke affecting wife of eldest son
Diagnosed the week before
Yet still they joined in our midst
Received our help and warm embrace

Tomorrow’s Independence Day
We celebrate as family
Grateful that the youngest son
Will bring kids and his wife
Whose recent cancer surgery
Revealed chemo yet to come
Love will be given and received

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Adjustments

My blog announces I’ll explore
The poetry of every day
Newly I have found alas
My everyday has changed

First I blamed my muse
Lazy creature distant
Unavailable to inspire
Or to awaken me

The tree outside my window
And the view
Clouds in dawning sky
Tell me no tales

Family life is bubbling
A stew of new developments
Demands attention
And my energy

Changes unpoetical I think
Call for language spoken best in prose
Stories full of life and real
Ah, my muse awaits me just off stage

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Reverie

The setting was a business meeting
On a hot summer day the AC chilling the air
I must have shivered a bit
In response the gentleman arose
Crossed the room and wordlessly returned
To drape across my shoulders a soft, white shawl.

Quiet courtesy yet so much more to me
When had anyone made me feel so comforted?
Time out of mind when I was young perhaps
And took such things for granted
Now it was a gift beyond compare
To make an Elder Woman feel beloved.

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Haiku: Unnatural Music

Loud clanging metal
An unholy tympany
Garbage truck at work

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Haiku: Natural Music

Summer’s green noises
Early morning birds chirping
Oak tree leaves rustling

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Passages

Summertime six years ago
I settled in this space
Unpacked and put my memories
On walls and table tops
In places I found evidence
Of occupant who came before
Tiny holes in closet door
Suggest a place to hang his ties
Apartment life is transitory
I put roots down none the less
Created my new home.

These past six years began a tale
Chapters of unexpected change
So many things I used to do
No longer are within my reach
My apartment is the same
It is I who have a different view
I will re-member cherished gifts
Grieve and lay them to the side
Look out the window at the tree
Watch pink clouds at early dawn
Embrace anew life’s mystery.

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The Art of Wheelchairing

Finally in 2015 I gave in and ordered a wheelchair for a trip to Mexico to celebrate Thanksgiving with my family. I considered it would be useful getting me through Customs. That was the beginning of my shaping a new world view from the sitting-point of a wheelchair.

The first leg of my flight took me to Chicago. But Chicago was having “weather” and I never got there. Instead I spent the day in the Cleveland airport parked in my wheelchair near other wheelchair occupants. My first lesson was that not only elder folk use them. A youngish woman who had injured her leg in a motorcycle accident sat beside me. When she wanted to buy food she loaded her carry-on bag in the chair and pushed off. At lunch time I followed suit feeling only a little self-conscious. My new journey began. Not only is a wheelchair good as a conveyance for carrying luggage and making small trips to find food, but also it is quite comfortable. The arms and foot rests are a cut above the usual seating in the gate area. I discovered the wheelchairs in the Houston airport, where I ended up after Chicago closed down, even have cup holders.

Last weekend I flew to Minneapolis to visit my son and his family. There were delays going and coming back home that left me to settle into my compact wheelchair world. I noticed in the concourse that people were using wheelchairs to push large luggage and small children. Wheels have always been a radical part of moving civilization forward. When I pushed my wheelchair to the Women’s restroom I was having trouble getting my chair into a stall that had a Handicap sign on it but had room only for a person. A kind young mother accompanied by her child in a stroller tried to help me. I confessed that I was not very good at navigating. She replied that I was doing great and she could never do as well. I thought to myself that she had already learned the basic lessons from pushing her children around and just didn’t realize it.

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