just take three kids,
toss in ten more,
stir up some screams,
splash in a bit of sunlight,
add ice-cold water,
a dose of shade,
and bake for three hours.
pull your party
out of the oven
and serve warmth.
childhood
Unemployed Words
if words could work
i could buy the right food
food to feed them
food to nurture the Earth
rather than strip her of
her natural beauty
if words would work
we could respond yes
throw our three-dollar-dinner
into the wastebasket
and forget the one week and
ten dollars left till payday
if words could cure
the tears would be smiles
and they could have
the ice cream cones of their dreams
instead of the cheap flavorless popsicles
that melt before they can get a taste
of the world with my words.
July Daughters (2011)
Isabella
not a tear or a fear
you smile at adventure
we leave you for four days
and the silence of your absence
is brighter in my mind
than the happy photos
of your smiling face
that they send to us
Riona
words escape you
as you blink back dark eyes
and growing-out bangs,
hiding behind my leg,
your babyhood reemerging
yet
when they are gone
you endlessly request
the words that have filled our hearts
(after moments of hesitation)
they magically conjure from your mouth
Mythili
a pile of donated clothes
sit like humped garbage
on the living room floor
i open bags
sift through worn-out knees
and missing-mate shoes
Oh, I didn’t know new dresses were coming in
your six-year-old crone remarks,
lighting a fire beneath my doubts.
Delight
just like the balloon animals
you have hidden in your suitcase
to the enthralled delight
of three learning-Spanish girls,
you are a rainbow of surprises
whose colors we cannot wait to discover.
Stardust
i thought i hated you
but you have come back in dreams
the holographic star
not letting loose a feathery dress
formed by British hands
instead the skyscrapers formed from stardust
i could call it haunting
(for it wakes me)
but it is a joyous light
leading so many home
in those underground pathways
too hot to touch in my subconscious
you will return
just as i have to you
and we will remember being eight
and the giant Christmas tree over ice
the guards in front of FAO
and the stardust skyscrapers
now rising up from ash
Unmelted
i hand her wings
as i read about Icarus
to the two young buds
we open up Google
and relish in Breugel
as she calls to check in
she returns triumphant
waxed wings unmelted
no pledge to Apollo needed.
Twisted Logic
how can i explain
the twisted logic
she openly verbalizes
as we sift through photos
of smoke and ash?
she will only see (one day)
perfect reflection pools,
beams of light calling to heaven,
beautiful bright buildings
standing like shadows
in place of what was lost.
she will not remember
(or pull back tears as i do),
but look into the world
with the hope that
the twisted logic of those ‘pilots’
is left behind with the rubble
they wrapped in a flag and carried home.
Door to Shore
she’s shoeless behind me
and he carries a load
worth a thousand pounds in gold
we coast down to the beach
(four miles from door to shore)
pedal harder home in summer rain
that tickles our backs
as thunder threatens our ears
this is the Vittetoe Express
missing a link along the line
broken into bright patches of light
as three girls, two chairs, two floaties,
one giant Camelbak,
and the love of my life
carry us home
June Daughters (2011)
Riona
curled in lap like kitten
you nestle in near the baby
remember that you are the baby
though simultaneously
you tag along with sisters and friends
try to partake
in your almost-five world
of big kid-dom
show your cousin how to hold a book
how to slide down the big slide
how to spray the hose
how to be
the beautiful little person
you have come to be
Isabella
whisperer
you listen in to all our conversations
picking out nuances
like the brightly colored beads
you choose for your necklaces
identifying each sparkling word
for its hidden meaning
whisperer
we stand along the fence
our neighing voices lost in the wind
you dash across, wipe the sky with your voice
high pitched and hard to hear
the horses listen, gallop
at the fence line in five seconds
your hand out with carrots as
thick equine lips pluck everything
from your fearless fingers
whisperer
you lift her out once
guide her to slides
push her in swings
she is head over heels
and denies me
only allows you
to wrap your arms around her
heave her up
change her diaper
and speak in a language
the adults can’t understand
Mythili
forethought and logic
shouldn’t quite fit
with a child younger than seven
yet you stop as sisters
blow away money with the wind
saving yours for something special
still trapped inside your imagination
you tell it like it is
pointing out the necessity of native plants
the reasoning behind new sidewalks
the purpose of cold hose water in the pool
i see you now
new front teeth coming in
i see you then
new world coming in
your forethought and logic
the backbone of who you are.
Breeze of Love
single women in spaghetti straps
men in khakis, collars and ties
linger in line for $3 microbrews
as we soak up the sounds of summer
girls giggle and groove at the front
forgetting for once they’re so small
beer bubbles in belly, beckons a smile
carrying kids through crowds into crescents
the ride home through Victorian
Colonial Craftsman Contemporary
bike lanes on every side street
brings a breeze of love through Lexington
lovely to love, to live, to meet.
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