Above Stores and Behind Stars

Posted on June 12, 2022 by sputterpub

I’ve walked this neighborhood so many years,
I’ve memorized the look of every place.
I gaze instead sometimes at what appears
above each independent retail space.
I note what must be offices or flats.
Apartments and compartments tantalize
imagination – urban habitats
and crooked shades revealing stored supplies.

It’s like rewatching favorite films so much
I start to pay attention to the sets
and extras, noting wallpapers and such,
instead of all the acting epithets.
There is no end to fascinating stuff
as long as I’m peripheral enough.

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Feeling Unredundant

Posted on June 11, 2022 by sputterpub

Five years ago I took on childcare,
commuting twice a week to spend the days
with grandson #4. I didn’t spare
my back the work, but it was mighty nice
to leave the desk and breathe in baby air.
In time, the virus came – a sister too.
The need for help from me soon won’t be there.
In two months I’m dismissed (with thanks and praise).
And then I’ll just be Grandma, with a flair.

(Magic 9)

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Reverse Rivalry

Posted on June 10, 2022 by sputterpub

Anticipating rivalry, we paid
attention to the older sibling’s need.
We lavished love on baby, but we made
a ton of time for four years old, indeed.
We answered every query and we played.
His sweetness helped our efforts to succeed.
We never dreamed, at five and one, we’d see
the younger acting out in jealousy.

(Ottava Rima)

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Immigrant

Posted on June 9, 2022 by sputterpub

A white rose that I know I didn’t plant
emerged outside my kitchen recently.
I don’t choose roses – me they don’t enchant,
though I regard this garden decently.
I’m not a fan of foliage like theirs,
and I’d prefer to live without the thorns,
but someone sowed and saw to budding cares
and I’ve allowed them space. So pink adorns
the window edge, and yellow decks the walk,
while ruby red unfolds in middle ground.
Now I don’t know from whence appeared the stalk
that blossoms white, bouquet-like, but I’m bound
to treat it like its sisters, watered, well,
and thank it for enhancing where I dwell.

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Like a Set

Posted on June 8, 2022 by sputterpub

In 1944, when it was made,
the owner was permitted to construct
a cottage in the yard, on level grade,
and in the northeast corner it was tucked
against two boundaries, beneath the shade
of trees and vines, rough-cornered and good-lucked.
It’s like a set for filming or a play,
for only half its sides are on display.

(Ottava Rima)

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Nice Neighbor Noise

Posted on June 7, 2022 by sputterpub

I opt to walk and dislike windy storm,
so I elect to dwell without a view.
I hunker in a garden, shaded, warm,
but miss eclipse and pyrotechnics, too.
And walkable means density. It’s true:
diversity my neighborhood enjoys.
So I can spy and eavesdrop on a slew,
but also have to put up with some noise.

(Huitain)

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If You Were Organized

Posted on June 6, 2022 by sputterpub

If you were organized, you would have guessed
the closest are the favorites, realized
when I said “help yourself,” not to my best!
If you were organized…

You grabbed the first you found. I was surprised.
If I were you I’d choose among the rest.
My stuff is ordered, first-to-lesser-prized.

A drawer of socks is like a sorting test.
A cluttered workspace, food that’s crystallized
on dirty plates, are symptoms soon addressed,
if you were organized.

(Roundel)

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North Wall

Posted on June 5, 2022 by sputterpub

The gate was open and I took a peek.
The house was empty. No one was around.
My little cottage, tiny and unique,
abuts their yard and decorates their ground.
I never see my north side. Is it sound?
I gazed at painted boards and ivy sign.
The wall looks shorter out than in, I found.
The bed-side of my habitat is fine.

(Huitain)

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Huitain and Ottava Rima

Posted on June 4, 2022 by sputterpub

When I embarked upon this House Arrest
assignment, I explored a hundred sorts
of metered rhyming verse. Although I’m best
rehearsed in sonnets, I attempted forms
I hadn’t tried and some I never guessed
existed – it was like a daily quiz.
I found, as days to weeks to months progressed,
some types I kept returning to of course.
Most days my thoughts are in 8 lines expressed.

(Magic 9)

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Exposure

Posted on June 3, 2022 by sputterpub

We walked last night into our mother’s place
and saw her on the couch – she’s 96
and usually upon her feet. Her face
looked pallid, tired. As we hugged and kissed
her stooping over she announced a case
of Covid, in acquaintance from her midst.
Right then we wished to take back our embrace.
Exposure was four days ago, she guessed.
And now we wait for her and us to test.

(Ottava Rima)

Posted in Coronaverse, Family, Health, Poetry | Tagged , , | Leave a comment