Thursday, October 27, 2011

Tea with the In-Laws

27 October 2011

I stir my tea and think
of everyone half a world away, wonder
if Lizet stirs her tea counter-clockwise;
how Ruth manages to stir her tea at all;
if Dottie drinks tea when we’re not there
to make it for her, to sit and sip and enjoy
the simple moments that sometimes we,
yes, even we take for granted.
I stir from the bottom and wonder how
Deb can manage coffee without sugar,
if Gina is ribbing her husband instead of me
over half-and-half this early in the morning.

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

You Used to Write Things

I used to write things--
USED to, he says,
and then looks
puzzled at my offense.
Used to indeed!
Why, just the other day,
I wrote a note
explaining why
our son was not in school.
I wrote a grocery list;
a collection of items,
things I must do before
I lay down to rest.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Polished Wood

22 October 2011

Time is taking hold of my eyelids,
dragging them along
a mostly predetermined path. Evidence
of many meals enjoyed,
perhaps too much,
certainly too late,
bring softness where once
I was, by and large, unyielding--
but my hair in sunlight is still
the color of polished wood.

George MacDonald

"Home is ever so far away in the palm of your hand, and how to get there it is of no use to tell you. But you will get there; you must get there; you have to get there. Everybody who is not at home, has to go home."

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