Exploring the poetry of everyday life

Haiku-esque: Old Time Wisdom

Fleeing icy cold
Sneaked through leaky window cracks
Hoped to share my warmth

Small black flying specks
Orbit space around lamplight
Whizzing past my book

Who are my strange guests?
I am told they are fruit flies
Given remedy

Novel entrapment
Apple cider vinegar
Should snare invaders

Though it does not work
I find the scent delicious
I’ll settle for that

In Response to Daily Prompt: Profusion


Haiku: Time Warp

Some nights I’m awake
Sandman keeps eluding me
Dawn takes own sweet time

Written in response to Daily Prompt: Tardy


Haiku: Matter of Perspective

Morning ritual
Soul searching sky for beauty
Cloud ribbons reward

Broader horizons
Dreams and possibilities
Visible inward

Written in response to Daily Prompt: Horizon


Haiku: Rope Trick

Searching gloomy skies
Cowpoke spies hole of sunlight
Loops rope to catch rays

Written in response to Daily Prompt: Loophole


Haiku: Fare Forward

Year draws to a close
Peer ahead into unknown
Dreams for the asking

Love, peace, forgiveness
Beyond our imagining
Free flowing justice

Harvest of riches
Strive for the impossible
Believe, be surprised

In Response to the Daily Prompt: Extravagant


A Christmas Miracle

It’s been five years since I moved back to Cleveland
Five Merry Christmases we’ve celebrated
Family traditions enfolded around us
Harking back to customs we had established.
And now we look forward to Christmas number six.

Surely as chaos came before creation
In the beginning of our wondrous earth
Misfortune now leads us to a new beginning
And new ways to gather in the wake of a loss
As a changed family.

In July my son’s wife was beset by a stroke.
I grieved to consider possible life changes
We crumbled collectively as we observed
Her tenuous balance and sometimes speech slurred.
And then undaunted she began to fight back.

With physical therapy and strong will unbridled
She remounted the horse of everyday living
Continued profession as real estate broker
While husband took on the role of her chauffeur
They created a new way of life.

Their sons learned new roles.
Oldest began his first year of college
Texted Mom daily keeping her in the loop
Younger son revealed talents hidden
Skills of repairing things technological.

This sixth Christmas requires a new plan.
My daughter-in-law was always designer
Of feast and festivities, gorgeous works of art
Gift to the rest of us from her creative soul.
We want to give back.

I offered to host in my small apartment
Potluck Christmas dinner in my less-is-more way.
Family were willing but we hit a roadblock
Daughter-in-law wanted Christmas as always
To welcome her son after first semester away.

We are glad to affirm her as our holiday hostess
Cooking her favorite dishes, decorating her home
And now there’s a change. She accepts our pot luck contributions
Sharing a new model for Christmas this year.
Chaos is lovely before Silent Night.

Written in response to Daily Prompt: Miraculous


Haiku: Apartment Music

Neighbors’ grandchildren
Arriving Thanksgiving morn
Stampede down the hall

Lovely the patter
Not-so-little feet clatter
A nostalgic sound.

In Response to Daily Prompt: Percussive


Futuristic Cart Washing

I set out for the grocery
Gray clouds were like lead
Till I rounded the corner
And saw something ahead
In front of the building
Grocery carts stood in line
Dutifully waiting, but for what?

Parked by the curb
Was a long white truck
Underneath streams of water
Flowed down toward the street
Engine noises most rattling
Unsettled my ears
What can this be?

Oh, I thought gleefully
Here’s something new
They put carts in the truck
And push them right through
A canyon with showers
Spraying dirt off with speed
A travelling cart-wash indeed.

My delight was short-lived
When I spied the fat hose
Attached to the truck
Prosaically spraying
The assembled carts
In the model of itinerant
Carpet cleaners.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt: Droll


Choice Living

Most days I eat lunch at my kitchen table accompanied by music on my old JVC boom box and the New York Times obituaries. The obituaries tell me stories of well-known people and some I have never heard of. I learn a lot about life and history. The obituaries do not make me sad.

My boom box has room for two tapes and three CD’s, many of which my son created for me. Usually I play jazz, Cole Porter, Chet Baker and rock and roll. Today I played Tchaikovsky’s Symphony Number 5. It always takes me back to a particular evening. The Conductor of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra led this symphony as part of his desire to take classical music to people on the South-side of Chicago who had rarely been exposed to it. It was held in the magnificent Sanctuary of an old church. The diverse audience was spellbound by the beauty and accessibility of the music. My former husband and I were one of those enchanted people.

Listening to this music makes me sad. It is not grieving a loss but is yearning for something that never was. I chose to depart this marriage and settle myself close to my children. I am alone. I never expected to be. There is an empty place that a partner might have inhabited.

I get up from my kitchen table and take my single plate and mug to the sink. I remember the joy and peace of the solitary life which I have chosen, inhabiting an apartment just the right size for one. I am happy.

Written in response to the Daily Prompt:Prefer


Haiku: Autumn Pallette

Red cheeks of apples
Gray squirrels a-scurrying
Bright flaming orange leaves

Blue skies overhead
Soft green grass still a-growing
Crazy quilt glory

In Response to Daily Prompt: Glorious