Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Mama




Mama

I've got enough work
to fill three days,
but here I sit,

mooning over the photo book.
Mama, I wish you'd look up
from your prize houseplants and chat a bit.

Help me figure out how to go on --
my two big boys gone to war --
one on a ship, one in a cockpit --

my little girl suddenly a woman, and lovesick --
the youngest just trying to find his way,
figuring out where he fits in all this.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2016






"Green"

the prairie
in fall
so much brown
brown
browngold
goldbrown
gold

the prairie
in winter
so much
white
bluegray
whitebluegray
white

when i cannot bear
the monotone palettes
any longer
i plant
drag clay pot
from window
to window
following
weak winter sun
drip water
over dry dirt
and wait
to feel life
life spirit
green
brush
against
my fingertips.

(C) Carol Wilcox, 2016


8 comments:

  1. I love how you are stringing all of these photographs together. I can't wait to see where this story is going.

    "Green"

    the prairie
    in fall
    so much brown
    brown
    browngold
    goldbrown
    gold

    the prairie
    in winter
    so much
    white
    bluegray
    whitebluegray
    white

    when i cannot bear
    the monotone palettes
    any longer
    i plant
    drag clay pot
    from window
    to window
    following
    weak winter sun
    drip water
    over dry dirt
    and wait
    to feel life
    life spirit
    green
    brush
    against
    my fingertips.

    (C) Carol Wilcox, 2016

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, Carol! I love this with all my Eastern Colorado heart!! PERFECT!!!

      Delete
    2. This is so beautiful, Carol. I especially like the wordplay (life/life spirit) and the "green/brush/against/my fingertips." wow.

      Delete
  2. Mama wants to know
    who was it who forgot
    to water the plant

    Mama wants to know
    who was it who forgot
    that poems get planted

    in spring
    and arrive
    in early summer
    full of bloom and ideas

    but need watering
    and wondering
    and wandering to reach
    their full potential

    Mama wants to know
    who was it who forgot
    to write this morning.

    --Kevin

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Is the title of this poem "Confessional"?

      Delete
    2. I definitely know who forgot to plant their poems and write in the morning (says she who has been scratching the dirt, scrabbling words together every night around 9!)

      Delete
    3. I have definitely "forgotten" to water lately. Lovely (and indicting), Kevin!

      Delete
  3. Mary Lee,
    This story continues to amaze me, this connection between a mother and a daughter. I can sense Mama's wish for more of a connection during these difficult, lonely times.

    ReplyDelete