Autumn Acrostic

a tree in our neighborhood

 

At first, it goes

Unnoticed.

Then it is

Undeniable. Almost like

Magic, summer is gone.

No more shorts and swimsuits.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020 (with input from students on the last line)

Puff of Wish -- a Nonet

Puff
of wish,
globe of stars,
summer snowflake,
granny in the grass.
Some say you are a weed,
but to me you are magic.
Even though I blow you to bits,
you never hold a grudge -- you spread joy.


Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

(Hat tip to Amy LV for the inspiration for the line "granny in the grass.")

The World Itself is Not Ponderous

photo via Unsplash

The World Itself is Not Ponderous

Feathers and giggles,

monarch's first flight,

petals unfurling,

equinox light.

Leaves in the fall,

bulbs in the spring,

in the yard after rain --

a fairy ring.

Fleetingly brief.

Here and then gone.

Like the flash of lightning,

or a chickadee's song.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Dear Candy Corn

 

image via Unsplash

Dear Candy Corn,

 

Thank you for your jolt of too-much sweetness

at the end of a too-long day

that was packed with too-much

of just about everything.

 

I have had enough.

 

One small handful of you,

one day like today.

 

I have had enough.

 

 

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Surprise

image via Unsplash

 

heavy humid air

a skunk was surprised nearby

exclamation scent

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Learning is a Lifelong Journey

 

Learning is a Lifelong Journey (a Pantoum)

Learning is a lifelong journey

that can only be mapped

in retrospect

and never with straight lines.

That which can only be mapped

by zigs and zags and sudden reversals

and never with straight lines

is as abstract as the summer sky, or

the zigs and zags and sudden reversals

of a monarch's flight

through an abstract summer sky.

Learning is a lifelong journey.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

 

Don't Forget to Wear a Helmet

 

photo via Unsplash

Don't Forget to Wear a Helmet

We're there.

Top of the ramp,

crest of the rollercoaster's lift hill,

poised to commit to -- submit to -- the will

of gravity.

Let go.

Fly and fall

with stomach-dropping fear.

Lean into curves, anticipate apogees.

Transform possibility into reality.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

This poem was inspired by Seth Godin's post today, Drop In. I especially liked this line, "The worse you can do is half."

Summer of 2020

photo via Unsplash

Summer of 2020

Happiness is morning light
and -- except for birdsong -- silence.
A book to get lost in,
and a cup of tea to begin

a day soaked by rain.
It will not stay
cool, but at least starts
pleasantly, unmarked

by stress and worry
about all that is unsure.
Hold this moment close.
Capture this fragment of hope.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Fallibility

image via Unsplash

FALLIBILITY

I am flawed. I make mistakes. I fail.
Miserably, and in cringe-worthy ways. All
the time. Yet I lift
myself up and flail
away at life, flatly
refusing to give up, refusing to take the bait
of “good enough.” I have the ability
to see the light in my aspirations, so I need to stand tall
and not bail
myself out with an alibi.
I’ll
not be a liability.
I’ll
try
and try
until I fly.
Until we all fly.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

This Photo Wants to be a Poem

Free Use -- Library of Congress

You will never know,
nor do I want you to.
But thank you
for trying.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Infinite

photo via Unsplash

If it weren't for the fireflies'
Nightly silent
Fireworks
I might have forgotten how much we
Need even tiny sparks of magic
In our lives
To remind us of the size of
Eternity.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

This Photo Wants to be a Poem

image via Unsplash

Make larger.
Amplify.
Give the viewer
New perspective.
In each droplet the
Focus captures
Your imagination.

Magnify.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Sand Creek Cottonwoods

Credit for photo

Sand Creek Cottonwoods

At first

the shade

of the gnarled cottonwoods

lining the dry creek bed

is a relief.

Sun blazes

in the cloudless azure sky.

At first

the rustle 

of the cottonwood leaves

in the near-constant wind

is a susurrus.

Leaf-babble

in the wide silent plains.

But suddenly

the age

of the gnarled cottonwoods

and the dates on the battleground marker

sink in.

These trees witnessed

the Sand Creek Massacre.

And now

the rustle 

of the cottonwood leaves

repeats the names of slaughtered elders, women, and children

in a dirge.

Leaf-testimony

in the wide silent plains.

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

nature carries on

nature carries on

hyacinths are gone

viburnum is swarmed by bees

daisies will bloom next 

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Lunch

Lunch

When Grandma was a girl
she sometimes walked home from school for lunch.
She remembers grilled cheese and tomato soup,
kidney beans and cheese on toast,
peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

Now that school is in my house,
I eat lunch at home every day.
I like to eat the same thing I did at school --
pretzels and a cheese stick, veggies and a fruit.
Keeping lunch the same helps me remember the cafeteria.

The cafeteria was loud and messy.
I traded pretzels for bites of sushi or mini Oreos.
After lunch was recess. I miss recess --
the swings, the big toy, even the muddy soccer field.
I even miss indoor recess.

Sitting on my porch
eating my not-a-school-lunch
at home-is-now-school,
I close my eyes in the sun, listen to the birds,
and remember everything I miss about school.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

There's No Such Thing

There's No Such Thing

There's no such thing
as something from nothing
but potential can surprise us like Spring does
can unfold the way a leaf opens
the way Einstein grew out of an inauspicious childhood
into his genius.
It is the way of the world to
make the improbable possible,
then real.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020



The phrase "make the improbable possible, then real" is something Maria Popova said during the live stream of "The Universe in Verse" on Saturday, April 25, 2020.

In the Recent Past

in the recent past

"infectious" and "contagious"

referred to laughter

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Dandelions, Ten Days Later

temporary sun

now a galaxy of seeds

blown dandelion

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

I Have a New Friend

I Have a New Friend

I have a new friend.
We've never met.
She chalks art and exercise challenges on the sidewalk.
She leaves the chalk out.
I write and draw my thanks.
Her chalk sticks became a pile of chalk pebbles.
I left a package on her porch --
Highlights magazines and gently used sidewalk chalk.
She left a package on my porch --
coloring pages, crayons and markers, four Cra-Z-Loom bracelets.
And a note.
I have a new friend named Annie.
We've never met.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Perspectives

Perspectives

I can see the train on the tracks two blocks away,
but an eagle can see a rabbit two miles away.

I can turn my head to look west down the street to the sunset,
but an owl can turn its head to see 270° (plus it can see in the dark.)

I can roll my eyes at Bill's corny puns,
but mantis shrimp and chameleons can roll each eye independently.

I can see your face,
but not your heart.

I can see through tears,
but not through closed doors.

I can see the stars,
but not the future.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

What You Want

What You Want

When what you want
is to swim laps in a pool,
a walk in the neighborhood
will have to do.

When what you want
is a hug and high five,
a card or an email
will have to suffice.

When what you want
leaves you high and dry
what you DO have
will just have to satisfy.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Fifth Grade Lessons

Fifth Grade Lessons

You're
only
eleven
and you're learning
life requires you to
(first and foremost) show up.
Read directions, do your best,
ask for help, give help when you can.
Put one foot in front of the other.
Never take "ordinary" for granted.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

There's Really No Other Option

There's Really No Other Option

It's a small boat.
You're alone in a storm.
The sea is rough.
A gust of wind takes your sail.
The boat spins and lurches.
It threatens to swamp.
You scream into the dark night.
The sky absorbs your anger, despair, frustration.

Then you pick up the oars,
and you row.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Be Prepared

no Swiss Army Knife

adequately prepares you

for a broken heart

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

I opened my Everyday Offerings book after I heard the announcement from Governor DeWine that our schools would be closed for the remainder of the year. It wouldn't have mattered if I had seen this before I heard the announcement. I knew it was coming. I was not prepared.

Generosity

Generosity

Give what you can.
Even if you have
No cash to spare, your giving makes a difference.
Every card or "thank you" or piece of art
Reminds those who are working so hard to keep
Our world running and our citizens
Safe and healthy, that we acknowledge their
Invaluable contribution.
Today, what will
You give?


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Contact Tracing

Contact Tracing

shy handshake
pat on the back
ponytail tug
hand-over-hand cursive
fist bump
high five
side hug

wave goodbye through the window of the bus
wave hello through the computer screen

contact secure
heart to heart


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Dandelions

Dandelions

Yellow stars
in a sky of green
you shine
but never twinkle.

Dots of happiness
splattered on the lawn
you're a freckle, a dimple,
a wink.

Golden coin
on green bank
you share your wealth
freely.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Haiku Diary for April 15

Haiku Diary for April 15

I wake up whiney

the sameness of every day

I'm on my last nerve

exercise, shower

a mug of hot tea, breakfast

sun peeks through the trees

my heart pumps, blood flows

lungs reliably inflate

some sameness is good

going to work means

down the hall into office

alone/together

Google Meet is fine

but like all the rest of life

you have to show up

food delivery

a small thing for us to do

makes a big difference

lunchtime luxury

listen to a podcast

nurture my spirit

hours and hours of screens

my brain is totally fried

the cure is ice cream

©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

Keeping a haiku diary is one of the challenges from Jarrett Lerner.

Ode to My Hardboiled Egg

Ode to My Hardboiled Egg

You came into this world ready
to be whatever was needed from you --

glue, to hold together a cake,
glaze, to make a pastry shine,
shell, to become a work of art,
sustenance, to give my body the strength

to do whatever the world needs from me.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020

We Are In This Together

We Are In This Together

When, in the human history of the
Earth, have

All the people --
Regardless of continent or nation -- shared the same
Experience? No one is

Immune from the daily
News of infection and death.

Turn on the media and you'll
Hear "furlough," "recession," "economy."
Incredible to see crops of tulips and onions
Sitting in fields, rotting.

Turn off the media and head
Outside. Nature will fill you with
Gratitude. Our
Earth -- spinning out days, circling out seasons --
Tells us change is inevitable,
Have hope, share wisdom, take care of
Each life.
Remember: we are in this together.


©Mary Lee Hahn, 2020