traces of the
baby you used to be
when I hold you
I could have sworn that I already posted this haiku to the blog, but I can’t find it when I search for it, so maybe not. I know that I posted it on Twitter the night that I wrote it. I am going to try to post a haiku every day this week to make up for being away lately. The more you hit Like and Share the more motivated I am!
my childhood birthday parties
homemade cake by aunt Beck
I can’t taste homemade icing without thinking of my Aunt Beckie.
the old man tells us stories
man tells us stories
of when he was
before the white
to his face like
I wrote this for a #ShapePoetry prompt on January 15, 2017. The poem’s shape is supposed to remind you of the tiny white frost that sticks up like spikes.
trying to beat the squirrels
to the fruit this spring
Today’s prompt was “cherry blossom” and I was thinking about when my mom had a cherry tree. She always tried to get enough cherries for one pie. But it was hard because she had a lot of squirrels and they would eat the cherries as soon as they turned ripe.
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sweeps past my ears
I wanted to share this haiku from a year ago. It is really windy in February. Some of my favorite memories are of me and my son in the yard enjoying being outside. I can’t wait to get back out there when it warms up.
Storm of Memories
rain drops fall
down my cheeks
as a storm of memories
pounds my brain
this squall hit quickly
This little piece was inspired by a #heartsmeal prompt on Twitter.
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Ignorance on the floor below me
She doesn’t remember
She is struggling to understand
I try not to get angry
Remember she hadn’t been born yet
When the towers fell
If you are ever reading a poem of mine and you are unsure of what it is about, the tags I use will always give you a clue. If you really like the poem you are reading, you can click on the tags of that poem and find similar poetry to read here on my blog.
Emily packs a punch in her short poems. We are drawing to a close of my posting my favorite Emily Dickinson poems, but you can always choose the Poems by Dickinson category at the side and read through them at your leisure.
‘Tis easier to pity those when dead
That which pity previous
Would have saved –
A Tragedy enacted
That Tragedy enacting
Too seldom does.
In the Rocking Chair
Sleep: he is heavy in my hands
Secure: he is relaxed against my chest
Comfort: his breath is warm on my neck
Dreams: he twitches under my chin
Love: his warmth against me
I loved and hated those days all at the same time. I hated being stuck in a chair, I hated having to be so quiet, but I loved the feel of my little one in my arms. Do you remember those days? Are you in those days now?
A faded Boy – in sallow Clothes
Who drove a lonesome Cow
To pastures of Oblivion –
A statesman’s Embryo –
The Boys that whistled are extinct –
The Cows that fed and thanked
Remanded to a Ballard’s Barn
Or Clover’s Retrospect –
This poem makes me think of my grandpa as a child. What does it make you think of?
the strings are still
but I still hear a song
My grandpa White would have been 93 today.
My Shift at Grandpa’s was originally published here in Barefoot Review.
My Shift at Grandpa’s
Walking barefoot across the kitchen
I let him sleep because
You heal while you sleep
I sweep the floor
And do some dishes in case
He gets visitors today
As I wipe down the table
I remember playing cards together
Laughs echo down the hall
That no one wants to be in anymore
He can’t hold cards
Or cook meatballs or catch fish
But that was never my
Main reason for visiting anyway
It is our turn to give now
I give him his medicine and
Cook his meals a few times a week
I know that the weeks left
Are growing shorter and dimmer
The best canoe trip in the world
Cannot compare to the gleam in his eye
When he tells me about Pigtails
And how he walked her to church
Under a sign that said
No Army Personnel Past This Point
I smile at his old jokes
Because I know that
I’ll never hear this voice
Tell them again.
© July 20, 2012 by Symanntha Renn
My grandpa has been gone for 9 years today.
black and white photos
all of the old men in them
start to look like grandpa