cronechronicler

You don't know where you are going. You don't know how to get there. And you arrive just the same. Ghanaian saying

Haiku: Autumn Cacophony

Morning fusillade
Acorns pelting from the trees
Pings and thuds galore

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Small Miracles in Covid Times

A rainy, gloomy day
Confined by social distancing
Feeling very much alone
I reached out to Margie
Who comes here once a month
To help with my house cleaning

She is coming here tomorrow
Now I have a task to do
Cardboard boxes from Amazon
Quarantining in my bath tub
Need breaking down
Cheering me with useful work

A second joy brightened me
Grandson James soon college bound
Texted me an invitation
Supper out and conversation
Wonderful way to say goodbye
We’re going Tuesday night

Good things come in threes they say
While washing dishes after lunch
Playing favorite old CD’s
I heard All The Things You Are
And traveled back to my teen years
Chills and goosebumps still intact

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Waiting For the Dawn

Like seeds sprouting in dark soil
A fetus growing toward its birth
We await a new day dawning
Whose nature yet remains unknown

Chaos often births creation
Pain and suffering signal change
Death precedes a resurrection
Secrets revealed in due time

Though our despair and fear are real
The agonies we now endure
May someday be transformed
And joy come again

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Coronavirus Itinerary

From the beginning
It was a strange journey
I thought I would do well
I like staying home

My many fixed routines
Soon seemed to crumble
I needed companionship
The warm blooded kind

I talked to my plants
Texted friends and family
Read books, watched old movies
Took long walks outside

I realized present time
Took all of my energy
Learning to Zoom
Became a mixed blessing

Past familiar habits
No longer sustained me
It was exhausting
Getting through the day

Future time distant
Offered no hint of comfort
May as well live
In this new present I’m in

Mornings are difficult
A thick fog encircles me
Passing by lunchtime
Leaving me empty

And then this morning
I welcomed a visitor
My muse on my shoulder
Telling me to write

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Happy Birthday in Hard Times

Raise your sails high
But don’t pull up anchor
Keep dreaming and planning
This can’t last forever

Keep flow in your life
Laugh, enjoy your friends
Family spirit enfolds you
With love and uplifting

Amazing new things
Bloom in our culture
Hard times’ bestow change
Endurance conquers

Rejoice in small moments
Taste your good cooking
Connections are precious
Zoom where you will

I love you, Bobby
You’re so dear to me
Stay safe and healthy
Until good times roll

For my grandson on his twenty-first birthday

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To High School Grads With No Ceremony 2020

You won’t march with your classmates
No Pomp and Circumstance
Cap, gown and diploma
Virtual accouterments
Form base and beginning
Springboard for the future
Where you go from here
Is your own creation
Hats off to you!

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Repurposing in Time of Coronavirus

Hardware store shut doors to business
Customers garden, fix own plumbing
Stay home and learn to improvise

Customers of bank next door
Wait in cars for drive-up teller
Since bank’s closed to indoor commerce

Store’s parking lot soon filled again
Bank customers found space inviting
Great place for cars to wait in line

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Capillary Action

Small glass cubed-shaped vase
Home for plant roots growing in water
Philodendron thriving nicely
In its bed of smooth pebbles

Today things however did not go well
While watering my plant
I missed the mark badly
Pouring a puddle upon my end table

Recalling science lessons from long ago
I grabbed a paper towel and created a straw
To suck up the liquid
O joy it did! problem solved

 

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The Senior Transportation Connection

I quit driving myself – abandoned my car
Found I’ve been transported to a new world
Peopled by those who still have destinations
And when needing a ride call the S.T.C.

We help each other putting on seatbelts
Check on how each one’s day is unfolding
And sometimes something magical happens
When we tell our stories

Not long ago on one of my trips
A second passenger boarded the van
A smallish woman in a neat knitted cap
With whom I clicked while helping buckle her in

I saw a riot of colorful flowers
Grass, vines and green trees graced her yard
She told about her plants outside and inside
I soon sensed we were kindred souls

And so began our discussion of plants
Like some women have about their grandchildren
She mentioned her birthday coming up in December
I asked her the date and she said “the ninth”

I felt a tingle of recognition
Felt my joy bubbling up
So I replied “Just what I expected.
That date is my birthday, too!”

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New Address: The Ocean

Stepping into a river one time – then again
And finding it’s just not the same
Later musing maybe it’s no river at all
But a deep ocean I now call my home

Maybe my views of the world and my life
No longer fit into seventeen syllables
Maybe climate change has stripped the dawn sky
Of my beloved pink cloud inspiration

I want to address the whole world-wide family
All swimming in rivers, navigating strong currents
New generations, new fears, new over-comings
Some things borrowed from elders, many more all their own

That deep ocean I now claim as my address
Swelling with challenge for my elder years
Requires new perspectives, new understandings
That oddly enough, bring me peace

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