Saturday, March 15, 2025

Retail Therapy, or, Death in three acts, draft no. 1

 (From the archives)

Context: This text exchange took place at the start of my first writer’s weekend I committed to take.  Just before, I had been selling items on Facebook Marketplace to raise money for Krissie’s painting.


Friday

Percell, 5:05 pm:

Could I see the plates?

And would $40 do?

Mum is British so

You can imagine we have much china.

This flower just happens to be my favorite

I’m with my sister-in-law

Who is dying of cancer today

 

Poet, 5:21 pm: Peonies are my favorite,

too! It has been hard waiting for

people who say they will come then don’t.

If you can come tonight,

Friday, forty would do.

 

Percell, 5:45 pm: waiting for my sister to arrive

do not want to cut short time to see her

I will come tomorrow early

or afternoon, if Saturday works for you

Then I can stay with her

tonight

 

Poet, 5:52 pm: Monday would be much better – anytime

between 9 am and 6 pm would do.

Price would be $45.

My time Saturday is limited

My husband is away, and I fear

I will squander my writer’s weekend

checking Facebook messages

 

Percell, 5:58 pm: I thought it was $49 for all.

It says 10 settings, unless I am reading it wrong.

Mon thru Thur I work 10 hour days

6 am – 5 pm.

 

Poet, 7:04 pm: I did not mean to underline.

Not sure why it did that. It was

a discount.

I could text you when I’m through groceries

Tomorrow.

 

Percell, 9:30 pm: Thank you, Hon. Afternoon

tomorrow will be fine

I’ll leave Waupaca and head east

when you say you’re back home

Just 20 min from me on 441

 

Saturday

Poet, 2:15 pm: Should be home

in 15 minutes

Groceries away by 2:45 pm. If you could come

around then, would be great.

 

Percell, 2:32 pm: Hon, she was airlifted to

Theda Clark here.

Not good

Can I come at 4:30 pm?
Still haven’t been able to see her yet

 

Poet, 2:59 pm: Of course.

I hope to nap then walk nearby

with my son. Give me a ring 10-15 min

before you arrive

To be sure I am here

 

Percell, 3:22 pm: I’m hoping to get there still today

Honey

 

Percell, 4:07 pm : We still haven’t seen her.

I think tomorrow may work better.

 

Poet, 4:19 pm: I’ve written a poem

and napped, so

recharged enough to flex

 

Poet, 6:25 pm: I’m up until at least 9:15 pm if that helps.

I’ve set the dishes on the table and have packing paper to wrap them in

And boxes

 

Percell, 8:33 pm: we are just leaving the hospital

Doesn’t look like our girl will make it

Another day

Praying and hopeful, but

it’s bad. If it’s ok I will come

Tomorrow. I’m excited about them so I’ll try to be there before 1 pm.

 

Poet, 8:39 pm: You bet. See you tomorrow.

 

Sunday

Percell, 9:55 am: Is it possible

To have the dishes already boxed?

And someone put them in

My car for me? I have back issues.

Her tubes are being pulled today so I

trust you that they are as you said

but I don’t have slot of time.

I have a $50 bill

Don’t worry about the $1.

You have been amazing to work with.

 

Poet, 10:08 am: I can box for you

And my son can carry.

We’ll be home

By 10:45 am.

 

Percell, 10:12 am: I will let you know

When I leave.

 

Poet, 11:35 am: I’ve boxed it up

And ready to go. I left one set out

For you to see, that I can

Wrap up quickly. Here’s a picture of

What I wrapped up. (The row of

Chipped ones are off the fabric

Not included in the count above.)

 

Percell,11:35 am: Oh it’s beautiful

Thank you

It’s beautiful. They are

Pulling the plug at noon.

I’ll let you know.

 

Percell, 12:30 pm: We still haven’t

Pulled it yet. This waiting

 

Poet, 12:46 pm: you’re good.

I will just be here doing paperwork.

 

Percell,1:26 pm: If it gets

Too late, let me know

Still hanging on

 

Percell, 1:52 pm: Is now

Too late to come

 

Poet, 2:00 pm: Now is

Perfectly fine with me

 

Percell, 2:02 pm: On my wAy

 

Percell, 2:50 pm: In the

Driveway. The wind is kicking me.

If your son could bring out

That would be great.

 

Poet, 3:29 pm: In one of the boxes

I brought out there’s a quilted pillow sham

That sort of goes with the set

And inside it

A framed “Jesus and the Lamb”

And a sympathy poem I wrote

A while back and thought appropriate

Given everything

Didn’t want you to think they were there

By accident 




 

Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Bear Hug Get Well

 To Alden and Claire when I learned they were under the weather on our Zoom call to London, sent with a bear hug card:


We trust you're feeling better

by the time you get this letter.

But even if you no longer have the bug,

Anytime's a good one for a hug. 



Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Somersaulting with God, draft no. 1

When I was a child

on the lawn of our Lyman cottage

I would plant my bare feet onto Dad’s shoes

Grab his big hands, crawl

up the wall of his legs

Turn backflip off his waist

Giggling

 

When I prayed in our group last night

I felt like that girl

Somersaulting off God’s knees

As he held me close

 

My soul vaults on God

I am his beloved daughter

No surer trunk will ever be found

I shall spin and laugh out loud

Forever


Sunday, January 19, 2025

Two Rivers Beach Walk 1/17/25, draft no. 1


Low low the sun goes

bright orange bleeds the skies

frozen sand neglects to sink

I'm sturdy, arms up high

D O  D O  D O  the sand prints read

to my dyslexic mind

Perhaps there is an "I" ahead 

where a young couple wed--

It's really just some shoe prints, trailing

down and down the beach.

How often I'm mistaken 

about hieroglyphs I see.

The pink clouds glow much fainter

Shells splay like open palms

I fashion Y E S with driftwood,

cove-sheltered where it's calm. 

Loneliness is scary

But solitude's a dance

I'd stay right here forever

If I had the chance. 




Bliss's 50th Birthday Poem (50 words long)*

 Never have we e’er seen Bliss:

hair amiss

husband dissed

spout off and now someone’s pissed

hang back when it’s time to greet

“Here I am,” spout, “Aren’t I neat?!”

Only one thing can explain

Bliss’ extraordinary frame

God, who’s got her in His grip,

And 50 years His craftsmanship


*A joint effort by Graham and Jen

Sunday, November 17, 2024

Hand Cream Pantoum


 (Guided by Poetry Unbound's prompt)


Purchased online from Frog and Toad, Providence

Resting nearby, on my nightstand

Others may call it frivolous

But only it soothes the dry skin's cracks


It rests near my bed, on the nightstand

Scented lotion wrapped in London scenes

Only it knows how to soothe my heart's cracks

To others, just a purse filler (and emptier)


Cath Kidston hand cream, wrapped in London scenes

I reach for it to feel close, feel loved

To you a pocket book filler (and drainer)

Each use, a prayer for my son


I smooth it on, to feel close, smell love

Others may call it wasteful

Every use a prayer to my son and his wife

Purchased from Frog and Toad

Wednesday, November 13, 2024

Haiku 8-7-24

 Noon sun, siren sings

"God's watching over Green Bay"

Dogs bark, I lift hands