No Flags

Leaves turning
Leaves turning

When we moved here

to the house where

the former owner

died in her bed

just short of 100,

there was a flag,

a wind catching

flag saying “Adams

Park.” No dead

dogs face. No chain

link fence.

Only the leaves wave now.

 

This poem was a response to one I received.

Tea Party

Tea party
Tea party. Tea set by my daughter Ife Williams.

 

My oldest daughter dropped

by for tea. “Should

I make a pot?” my husband

asked. “Why not?” I said.

We often have tea with

daughters, but rarely from

the teapot. He picked a

hibiscus for the table. It

was a pop up tea party.

Long Ago Summer

Single Hibiscus
Single Hibiscus

I remember the summer we

stayed with Nanny and Poppy.

We used to walk our mother around the

corner to the bus stop. On the way back we

stopped and picked up the hibiscus blossoms to

mix into our mud pies.

 

One terribly stormy afternoon our grandparents

made us sit on the couch, no lights, no television,

no radio.  The lightening flashed through the lace

curtains. There was thunder, wind and pouring

rain. When our mother came home, jumping over

downed wires, we cried.

 

Evenings after dinner my sister and I sat around the

kitchen table with Poppy.  We ate Ritz crackers with

grated cheese and played Sorry while

Poppy drank his nightly glass of buttermilk.

Birthday

cards sent 8_29_2016 3
Nancy K. Green Wolf Creek Ceramics

 

The cars pull away from

the house.  I watch them

leave. The air is warm

and thick. The street

lights come on and I

walk down the brick

path. One last firefly

flickers in the gathering

dusk. Birthday celebration

over. Seventy years gone.

I Don’t Remember…

Pearl & Kristin Cleage. Springfield, MA 1950
Pearl & Kristin Cleage. Springfield, MA 1950

 

I don’t remember my sister Pearl

in her blue organdy

Christmas dress.

Or my three year old self

twirling and swirling in the

parsonage backyard

 

Years later, when I thought of

moving to Idlewild, I saw

myself in my minds eye,

arms outstretched, head

thrown back, eyes closed, twirling.

the grass, the woods, the lake

swirling around me.

2016 Postcard Poetry Wrap-up

Postcards sent in 2016
Postcards sent in 2016

This was my 4th year participating in the August Postcard Poetry Fest and I think it was my best one yet. Although I seemed to take longer to get into the groove of writing the poems.  By the end of August it seemed to come more easily and I was still writing and sending out extra poems. Altogether, I sent 40 cards, 31 to people in my group and 9 to people in other groups. I made several photographic collages and used quite a few of my own photographs, printing them on these blank postcards. I also used up some of the postcards I had on had leftover from previous August fests.  I found those the least satisfactory this year.  As I post my poems from August I am using some of my photographs to replace those pictures that do not fit with the poem.

The 37 postcards I received through September 22, 2016.
The 37 postcards I received through September 22, 2016.

I received 37 cards, 30 from the 31 people in my group and 7 cards from those in other groups. The postcards were spread out over more time – some coming as early as July and still trickling in during September. More people made their own cards, at least some of them this year. There were watercolors, collages, drawings and photographs. Even the “regular” postcard pictures seemed to be less repetitious than last year when several of us used the same cards from Pomegranate.

The Facebook group was quite lively and built a sense of community among those who participated.  For those interested in participating next year, keep an eye on Paul Nelson’s blog. He keeps a countdown going and organizes the fest each year. You can read his after word at this link Paul Nelson’s Afterward.

I am enjoying comments on the poems I post, most of which come on Facebook.  And also reading the poems that others are sharing on their websites. I’m thinking about 2017. I plan to use my own photos and collages again.  Not sure how to match spontaneity in writing with making cards that match up with the poem. In the mean time I plan to write more poetry.