The lady across the street died last week. She was known in the neighborhood as the "crazy lady" or just as " the witch". As she aged I think she became a little bit nicer.. I never had a problem with her though I did see what she used to do to deserve her name..
If a ball bounced over on her grass, she would angrily yell at the kids to get off her property. If she was inside when this happened, she would angrilly rap on the window, arms flailing in the air, mouth moving and twisting this way and that in exaggerated frustration. One year when the school bus driver decided that in front of her house was a covenient place to stop, she couldn't stand it, and when the horrible little kids sat on her big tree stump one morning, the next day the tree stump was covered in goo with nails driven into the top of it. Not too much longer after that, the bus picked up the children in front of another house.
The only problem my husband and I had with her was when we first moved in across the street from her. We had parked our pick up in front of her house since the moving van took up our driveway and our other car was in front of our house. When we went outside the next day, there was a note scrawled on a piece of paper on the pick up windshield.."Park your cars and trucks in front of your own house!" Apparently she never knew that the street wasn't her domain as well.
So, I look over there, at her empty house, with the unlikely pink Spring wreath on her front  door, the property she once zealously guarded looking stark and empty, and I wonder if all the meaness she spewed during the years was worth it. She had lost her husband a long time ago I had heard and had raised her 2 kids as a single mother, never marrying again, her cats and her property her priorities.. Many days I'd see her in her favored mumus, grumbling to herself as she caught sight of a piece of litter near her curb..She'd march up to it, pick it up, walk it to the middle of the street, look bothways, then throw it, so that it fell beyond what she considered her property line.
Now all that she considered important lays silent, all the things she could have done in her life to help someone lay silent, and if walls could talk I bet you could hear her sad little house draw a big sigh.

   Ode to Emily Dickinson


I thought to write some poetry
and then the mood did pass
and so I thought of
fairy tales
hair spun gold
and castles old
of knights in shining armour
and roman statuettes
of kind and noble faces
staring off in space
toward all or none
they moved with grace
and then died young
their passing still is poignant
like grapes so ripe to taste
the shorter life, the sweeter
the memory will linger
I read about your life
and think about the way it was
like a picture right in front of me
a beginning and an end
unlike mine that spills
before me
not so noble, not so noble
out into the garden
your cup of tea looks cold to me
let me warm it up for you
and walk with you to sunlit stream
and listen to your story.

2/27/2005

Thinking of Eileen and the statues in NY museum

                               

                             The Day the World Changed


My brother-he told me-
We knew this day would come
But the birds couldn't sweeten
the day, though they tried-
and the flowers spoke of life
on the day my dad died.

The world became useless
like a house made of cards
and the only light shown
was the love of my family
and the comfort of friends
and my voice echoed loud
in the pit of my soul
that all would be right
that's the way life is
but the air hung so empty
the day my dad died.

Pomp and ceremony
known to kings
every respect known to royals
the people were different
as they watched my dad pass
they were stunned for a moment
and desperate somehow
but we held our heads high
as my dad would have liked
and we pushed back our sorrow
though no one contained
their sadness that day
Everyone knew the world
was a loser
the day my dad died.

July 2003

On the Bay Side


Like the skimmer that scoots
long the Palimino Sound
his long nose gliding
through the clean silver water
I'm coming up empty
and gulping for air
Like a puzzle that's finished
but still is undone
I'm coming up empty
and going no where
I try to adjust
but my mind is on break
and the world takes a shift
like the continental drift
I'm looking for answers
but the questions aren't found
and the skimmer keeps on trying
for his long overdo dinner
and I'm watching the sun sink
down under the sound.


July 2003

This I wrote after seeing my first grandchild on my daughter's ultrasound..It was the first time I had ever seen an ultrasound. It was a beautiful moment, to see my daughters baby, floating peacefully, serenely in the quiet cocoon. An angel in heaven, waiting to come into this crazy world...

To Shanna Grace

Your hands, so small, with little bones
outstretched
to touch your nose or mouth
You float so effortlessly
snug inside
my daughter's womb.

Child of ours, so perfect, so peaceful
Do you talk to God all day
as He watches over you
watches you grow up
to our arms outstretched?

I long to hold you
to hold you close
so much love for you already
You perfect angel
your nature so pure.

Your dna, partly mine
but you will be graced
with the sweetest parents
who grow with you
as you become
yourself alone.

Your little feet and little toes
so precious
so uniquely you, and
ours
We await the day
you meet us here
We wait with joyful hearts
with arms outstretched

August 2008

In between
what's real
and what we may not see
In between
what lies ahesd
and what's behind
I'll be..
Like tulips in the
winter sun
peek through snow
in search of life
good or bad
In between
what lies ahead
and what we cannot see
HOPE springs eternal
for you and
for me.

August 4, 2010

To Eileen
7 months + 1 day
A V M D

Wet and icy snowflakes
fall against the window
Your coat feels snug around me
Your favorite color green.

Pigtails in the summer
push me on the swing
Your sweet face framed
by sky of blue
We laughed like we were crazy
my zaniness you captured
and became a part of you.

You liked to draw your horses
and hopscotch in the day
and play your games of make believe
sometimes just with me
and then we'd dress up proper
and drink our irish tea.

I hope that you are happy
and warm and far from harm
out riding in the country
safe from all the storm.

Your sweater keeps me warm
and close for now it keeps me
your pigtails in the summer
and arms outstretched
to greet me.

3/5/05

To Eileen with xo ftom the Bahamas

Mask on tight
I go back under
Beautiful world
of blues and reds
of life not seen
from earth above

My flippers bend
me down again
to caves below
of yellow heather
coral reefs
bright sleek snapper
living a life
I've never known

I think of you
on honeymoon
with hair of yellow
and bright eyed pleasure
you saw what I am
seeing now
yet you're not here
to tell me so
of sunlit days
and moonbeam nights
turquoise seas
wind so gentle
times you had
and yet to come
it seems unfair
you'd just begun..

7/14/05

To Eileen/ My Sister

I look for you on windy days
where skies move clouds through hurried days
I look for you in early morn
as footsteps crunch the new day dawn
I look for you on golden days
where sunlight warms the garden gate
I stop and wait to see your smile
and hear your laugh, your voice, your wonder

But trains roll on, on time or not
and clocks just tick the hours through
the days as dark as moonless nights
and cold as ice in northern tundra

My life goes on, not like before
the grief is mine, alone to heal
It seeps each time I make a move
It waits to pounce and pull me under
on darkened days
or days of splendor.

5/1/06