A helpful commenter on last week's post (scroll down to read it) suggested writing list poems as a way to get back into writing after drifting away for a while. So I tried a few. Here are three new ones from this week.
Oh, notebook, my confidante,
I've missed the comforting opaqueness of your cover,
the predictable curve of your spiral,
your straightforward guiding lines,
the way you keep my secrets,
and how they whisper to me as your pages turn.
On Mom's Windowsill
orchids whose flower stalks stretch toward glass
Christmas cactus, hopefully budded
plump aloe with companion stained glass dragonfly
chick in Easter basket, dancing to sunshine
reminder to staff: Always use gait belt for transfers!
chair alarm, flashing to show that the battery works,
labeled "wireless fall management"
as if it could maintain her balance
or temper her urge to get up and go somewhere—
if she could just remember how to get there
What She Remembers
She remembers the lyrics to songs she sang decades ago.
She remembers the punchlines to jokes she repeats with a smirk.
She remembers to put on her long, double-strand
She remembers how to apply her red lipstick
without a glance in a mirror.
She remembers a day with our dad in a field by the water.
She remembers my face, though she's not always sure who I am,
and I don't have the heart to remind her because
I am struggling with memories of my own.
Kathryn Apel has today's Poetry Friday Roundup. Enjoy!