Bernice

22 November 2007, 11:32 AM
Grandmother Pope

Fifteen years ago,
we gathered at your table for a feast
we’d anticipated days on end beforehand.

I find myself relieved to have
a memory I don’t regret, one I’d go back to
if I could, for just a moment, to ask you
if granddad’s stories are true- the ones
he tells about how he lost his finger-
and to help you make yeast rolls
while the boys play football on the lawn
in the south Texas autumn.

Makes it hard at times to celebrate the day
any other way, remembering now
that you’re gone.

Pumpkin Party

27 October 2006
Wrote this a while ago, but never got around to posting it.

There were so many significances-
scents of cinnamon and cognac
in spiced wine, the second slice
of homemade pumpkin pie,

to say nothing of the pumpkins-

oh, the pumpkins!
The fight they gave and lost,
the battles won with store-bought
pumpkin carving tools, for this is serious
business we've engaged.

And the being with, wherein lies the magic
of any autumn evening, and certainly
a gathering of such magnitude.

The being with is what brings me to life,
what I cannot do without