aging · creativity · Family · life · poetry · writing

Mom

She dresses for company,
every day –
just in case.

Keeps a puzzle at her side –
a distraction for lonely times,
entertainment for guests.

Body failing,
eyes challenged,
but mind is sharp.

At ninety-one,
how she keeps going
remains a mystery to most.

(Mish is hosting in the dVerse pub tonight.  The challenge is to write a poem in 44 words (quadrille) using the word puzzle.  Thanks Mish!)

Family · Humour · poetry · writing

A One-and-Only Picnic

Picnicking with mother
happened only once –

The summer’s day
a perfect pitch of bright,
the breeze a welcome companion

Laid our cloth atop rickety table,
perched in anticipation
of waxy wrapped sandwiches
and homemade bread and butter pickles
and the certainty of some fresh-baked treat

Hadn’t taken so much as a single bite
before the buzzing started –
bees inviting themselves to our repast
lured by the sweetness of our fare –

sent mother screaming
commanding us to pack up at once

Never again did we venture
further than our back yard,
reserved the park for drive by visits,
and, if lucky, the occasional
opportunity for a swing or a slide,
as long the bees stayed out of sight.