poetry

August 3, 2012

heart puzzle

my sister texted me this morning
a note about her oldest son being back home in Arizona, from his two month visit home to Illinois, where he stayed and played with his grandma and papa, aunts, uncles and cousins too, over summer break

she wrote, “Kids were elated to have him home. It felt great to all be under one roof again.”

I replied:
All is well
As it should be
The missing piece of your heart puzzle back in place
I’m so glad
For all of you
Hugs and love

she replied, “That is exactly the way I felt to… Kinda off all summer and just felt complete. It was so fun watching all three kids walk inside the house together with smiles.”

then she added, “I love u so much Janean.”
making my heart squeeze and my throat close and my eyes water because Arizona feels really far away today.

August 3, 2012

July 26, 2012

the moon man

headin’ home as a family
when from the backseat
my nine year old boy said,
“I see the moon man.”
as he gazed out the window
at the dark night sky
I asked, “Do you mean
the man in the moon?”
he confirmed,
“Mmmhmmm, him.”
then he asked
a science question
about the moon
and the tides,
“How does THAT work, anyway?”
I mumbled something
about gravity
and lookin’ it up
later
and went back to grinnin’
about seein’
the moon man
as I gazed out my window
too

July 25, 2012

July 21, 2012 Image

Dear Queen Anne,
I love your lace.
I always have.
Since childhood.
When I’d tuck a stem behind my ear and the delicate blooms would tickle my face.
I picked a dozen and wove the long stems into a crown, oblivious to the minute white petals in my hair long after the crown was gone.
I chose the prettiest blooms and presented them to my grandma in a great big bunch.
Flowers, flowers everywhere in her multilayered gardens, but the only one I was allowed to pick was your lace, Queen Anne.

Time passes.
That young girl, once so carefree, grew into a woman with a family of her own.
But I’m still me.
In the light of early morning, walking my sweet pup on a new path, I spied a familiar flower.
For I never could call it a weed, with a name as lovely as, “Queen Anne’s Lace.”
Hello my friend.
Thank you for waking up my memories, of those childhood days long gone.
My grandma is gone now too.
Smiling down from heaven as I snapped off a single bloom and kept on walking.
Heading home.
Puppy slowing down, pulling less, heeling more.
I know full well it’s against the rules to pick flowers in a public park, as they are there for everyone to enjoy.
I rationalized no one would miss one weed…
Even though in my heart I didn’t think it so.
Thank you for the beautiful, pure white, intricate blooms of your lace, Queen Anne.
I’ll be walking that way again and a flower may or may not follow me home again…
(Depending a bit on who is reading.)
Love,
Janean

July 21, 2012

July 3, 2012

tonight

tonight
the moon is full
with a pale orange tint
the nighttime air is cooler
less thick
without humidity
to be expected
on a midwestern day
in July

tonight
the breeze blows gently
yet persistently
I wish
for a screened in porch
a sleepin’ porch
like summers growin’ up
at Grandma and Grandpa’s

tonight
I see a flash a light
hear the leaves rustle
and feel a storm
gathering power
we need the rain
but it’s more than that
for a storm’s been brewing
and it’s time
to let it all go
tonight

July 2, 2012

June 18, 2012

zig zag

looking back
because that’s what we do
there are times
we could have zagged
instead of zigged
visa versa too
we can’t go back
there are no do overs
I’m just glad
I’ve spent these years
with you

looking forward
we have more questions
than answers
and when we get them
we may wish
we didn’t know
so let’s zig more
and zag less
and remember
to laugh and love and live
for as long as we have left
together
could be you’re stuck with me
for many years yet
so I can baffle and perplex you
with more poems
about zigging and zagging

June 18, 2012

June 12, 2012 Image

I awoke to a “WOOF” at 4:20 a.m.
just as well since I was dreaming of pot roast
that’s a new one
diet induced dreaming
out we went
the sweet pup and I
in again for his breakfast
and mine
pot roast dreams long gone
filled instead with healthy cereal
sorta sated anyway
another “WOOF”
well, bowls are portable
out we go once more
this is my first birdsong breakfast
eaten in the open air
perched on the edge of the deck
by the stairs
the sky is moonlight blue
with a not quite half
not quite crescent moon
still hanging in the sky
the horizon begins to glow
in warm shades of gold
as the dog and I go in
once more
it’s time for coffee

June 12, 2012
it’s now 5:00 a.m.