uganda snapshot - one

grinning orphan boy, 11,

clad in a

royal blue braces by dr. joe

soccer jersey

and

wearing mismatched flip flops

(one black, one pink)

looks over my shoulder as i swipe through

home

pictures

i show him north carolina in winter

with its

leafless trees

and

snow on the ground

and

when i tell him that in

october, november, december, january, february, march and april

no corn grows,

solemnity

sits

on

his

face

letters, undelivered: dear dad

dear dad (on the occasions of your birthday and father’s day, 2017),

i wish i could sit with you today,

me on the Rollator

and

you in the La-Z-Boy Powerlift

the tv on golf

i wish i could sit with you today

and

tell you

happy birthdayfather’sday

and

that i got four new chickens, rhode island reds,

but

one of them didn’t make it the night

fox, i guess

you would ask about

the

garden

and

i would say everything is stunted this year

and

not even a second would pass

before

your

joke

don’t belittle your garden

and

maybe you would share a good one from the comics

or

a 1930’s E Street adventure

before falling asleep,

chin on your button-down shirt

it would be

my cue to slip out,

back to busy

i should have slowed down some years ago,

listened longer,

and

i wish i could see you today, dad

love,

kr

sitting, quiet

sitting, quiet,
save
the shhhh puhhhh
of
the
oxygen tank
the hot humid hospital-like room
making its permanent mark
on my senses
shhhh puhhhh
the blind is open
and
there's
c street, evening-time quiet,
calling me to
run
run
run
shhhh puhhhh
to forget
that
the woman who
raised my husband
and taught
and cooked
and sang
and served
and traveledtheworld
and whom i love
is slipping
into
shadow
shhhh puhhhh
c street, evening-time quiet,
is calling me to run
but
my boys’ nana lies, needing,
in
her
last
days
shhhh puhhhh
so
i reach over and
close
the
blind
shhhh puhhhh
c street, evening-time quiet,
is calling me to run
shhhh puhhhh
but
for now
i’ll sit, quiet,
witness
to
the
wonder
of God-at-work
as he prepares his
daughter
for
home
shhhh puhhhh


linking with holley and missional women

meet the siblings

Carol, me, Allen, Cam, Katie, Mary

i came across an old poem today and was reminded that one of the reasons i love my siblings so much is that they make me laugh until i cry. this piece is entitled 51 because it belongs in a series....

51

two sisters and a brother and i watched

dad sleep in his chair yesterday

his legs practically running a marathon

and

we began discussing restless leg syndrome

only we call it

jumpy legs

or

the heebie-jeebies

me –

it feels like i have strings inside my leg bones

that come out the soles of my feet

and

someone starts pulling on them

like a marionette

katie –

it’s like my blood is running backwards

but

not angry backwards

cam –

my toenails itch….

katie –

oh yeah

itchy toenails is a

big sign

of the heebie-jeebies

and the laughing-till-we-cried?

soul food

what do you love about your siblings?