NaPoWriMo #17

These days I hedge my bets.
Once I hurtled, headlong
but now I measure my responses,
pause before striking,
do my research.
I always keep an umbrella in my car

I enter each meeting,
each transaction
with my due diligence done

But some days
I miss the feel
of the rain on my face

NaPoWriMo #15

My grandma’s hands
were a map
of her life
a topographical map,
with mountainous knuckles
swollen by hard work
and arthritis
pale, blue rivers
of veins
winding their way
around the metacarpals
to the fingers
fingers cracked and thickened
with a lifetime
of field work and cooking
of sewing and mending
of caring and healing

I’m not pleased with this yet. I have all the verbs in the last three lines end with -ing, except field work, and I don’t like that. However, I don’t want to use gardening, because that sounds too easy and casual for what she did. And I don’t want to use farming, because that makes me think of something broader. She worked all day in the gardens growing organic flowers and produce for the farmers’ market. She also raised organic chickens to sell at the marked too (meat and eggs), so maybe farming… just not sure. Also, the other pairs of verbs at the end are more closely related than the first two, field work and. cooking. Also, though she’s dead many years now, I think I’d rather say her hands ARE a map of her life in line two. Ah well, something to work on in May.

NaPoWriMo #12

I am no physicist
but I know about time
I know how it changes
how it bends
and folds
I know it’s not a constant
but races, then
stops and
pools at one’s feet
then scampers ahead
I know how it can deceive

What I don’t know
about time is
how to spend
it wisely

NaPoWriMo #9

The frost has left the ground
purple crocus are open
Sparrows are back
insistently calling
Old Sam, Peabody, Peabody, Peabody
to one another
Buds on maples are reddening
the first tiny leaves
on the lilac
have opened
as we tip towards the sun.
Tomorrow’s forecast is
10-12 inches of snow –
a typical April in Wisconsin

Disclaimer: I looked up the sound the sparrows make.  If left to my own devices I just hear cheep – cheepcheep – cheep.

NaPoWriMo #4

Is there a word for
that feeling
in the back of the throat
a heaviness,
a contraction;
or the prickling feeling
around the eyes
just before they
rim with unshed tears,
that comes when
something so lovely
and so sad
What word encompasses
those visceral reactions
to one’s psyche?
Descartes, what were you thinking?



NaPoWriMo #2

I read Rumi in the morning
sitting with my little dog
and my coffee,
the universe entering my being
then my daughter calls
and jobs and schedules and insurance and to-do lists
the sky
and the ocean
and the universe
from my mind
and I am thrown back into the froth
of this world



Who worries about being minimalist?
An entire industry arose
to organize stuff;
to build stuff
to hold
to help us
get rid of stuff
so we have the space
to fill with newly purchased stuff
But what are we trying to fill?
What went haywire in our hunter-gatherer brains?
Where is your empty space?

This is for the promp 55+ at the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads, where we are asked to write 55 words, plus use some aspect of “space.”  Click on the link and check it out.