weekly muse...
volume 1, issue 22 | 2022-12-12
poetry
young adults
this is your time to sit in the grass on a lawn chair drinking beer you don’t mind if i stay here a while longer sniffing the air? there is enough sunshine left for both of us
-- from homebound
waterfall
the rocks form the river forms the rocks solid flowing silent loud
-- from along the way
indian ocean tsunami
little brown people float in brine we slurp with evening news like vegetable soup we give a generous burp satisfied the rising tide will not reach us
-- from everything rhymes
evening fire
-- for marcel proust, time traveler logs glowing amber glass yellow flames fleeing like futures past morning memories fragile like black embers in gray ash
-- from lives of the poets
park lawns
seas of grass shoosh my feet walking the earth another day -- from another day
short stories
wedding plans
…continued
May 1996, Matching Pair
Bob and Marie walked down the aisle of the old stone chapel on Lake Michigan. Bob in his rented tux, and Marie in her white bridal gown. Robert stood waiting at the altar. He and his best man both wore the dress blue uniforms of Army officers. Marie's favorite piano teacher played the wedding march on the church organ as they entered the doors. Bob smiled at the guests with warm mist in his eyes. Marie's beaming face looked straight ahead at her husband-to-be. Bob shook Robert's hand, handed Marie over to him in her place at the altar, and then sat down in the front row next to Ren.
The days before and after the wedding were all a blur. Ren made all the food herself while Bob shuttled back and forth between the house, the chapel and the rental supply stores. The reception was the worst of the frenzy. Ren had several stovetops and ovens going all at once, while Bob and a few young girls scrambled to serve the food. Their small crew was falling behind with the meal and guests were getting antsy. At the point when they were nearly overwhelmed with the task, some friends from their church quietly left their places at the tables without being asked and pitched in to help. The kind of wedding gift that cannot be found in any registry. Tears welled in the corners of Ren’s eyes like warm condensation from the kitchen steam.
Somehow, eating and dancing and toasting and pictures were woven into the midst of all of the cooking and serving and clearing of tables. The day was a carousel spinning too fast like an old vinyl record playing at the wrong speed. In a blink, the middle-aged couple was standing outside behind the chapel, hugging and kissing Robert and Marie as they climbed into the back of the limousine that would take them to the airport and off to California for their honeymoon. Tracing the same westward path that their parents had traveled years before. Doing it their own way.
The next day, Ren went out and bought a cat. A tiny kitten with bright orange stripes. She had always detested cats. Since the days when they were first married and had a few of their own. She still carried a faint scar on her breast where one of the cats had scratched her in those budding days. Now, she cradled the little kitten in her arms. Bowing her head to feel the soft warm fur brushing her cheek. Bob put his hand on her shoulder and smiled as he buried his face in the fur alongside hers.
-- from signs & wonders -- coming next: "sideview mirror"
lucy (losing the light)
…continued
I headed the car toward my last stop, the YMCA. The back seat was starting to empty, a big gap where the linen once was.
“So.” He smiled expectantly. “What about it?”
“What about what?”
“Accounting.” He waited. “I answered you.”
It was true. He had.
“It’s my parents.” I twisted my mouth in a sideward frown. “They want me to major in something more practical, where I can get a job.”
He nodded in silence, then spoke. “Are you good at it?”
“Oh sure.” I tossed my head with a flourish, but my cropped blond hair barely moved, having cut my mane at the start of summer. Sometimes, I forgot it was no longer there. “Anything to do with math. I’m a real whiz.”
“Do you like it?” He gently probed.
“I don’t mind.” I shrugged my pointy shoulders, which barely held up the strings of my white cotton tube top. “It’s relaxing. Like stacking blocks.”
“So.” He paused for dramatic effect. “It would make a good hobby.”
My head snapped around in a quick double take. His dignified face cracked a mischievous grin. We exploded with laughter as if on cue.
Then, he started to sing…
‘Picture yourself in a boat on a river’
“Oh God.” I groaned. “Not again.”
‘With tangerine trees and marmalade skies’
“My whole life.” I protested. “I’ve heard this my whole life.”
‘Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly’
“No.” I took my hands off the wheel, plugging my fingers into my ears. “Make it stop. Somebody please make it stop.”
‘A girl with kaleidoscope eyes’
“I don’t know which is worse.” I complained with mock exasperation. “This, or Charlie Brown, or I Love Lucy.”
‘Cellophane flowers of yellow and green
Towering over your he…ead’
He persisted. His voice wasn’t half bad.
‘Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes’
I gave up and joined in…
‘And she’s gone’
We beat time together with the nod of our heads for the pause, and then shouted out the refrain.
‘Lucy in the sky…y with diamonds
Lucy in the sky…y with diamonds
Lucy in the sky…y with diamonds
Aa…ah’
We pulled in the drive to the YMCA parking lot, which spared me from any more verses. Though secretly, I always liked it.
-- to be continued...
-- from summer’s end
microfiction | a history of the world
…continued
weaver (mill worker)
My hands have worked this wheel so long. My fingers are spindles. Wooden knobs. A window slat tells night from day. There is no sun in here.
Dust hangs in slanting rays. Countless hidden worlds. I want to stop and gaze. Sifting in the gentle air. Fingered by soft light.
A thread tugs at me. The wheel keeps spinning. From the distaff, I am weft.
There is talk of a strike. But what of my baby? She needs to eat. If we do walk out, I hope it is sunny. To feel the sun on my face. That would be something.
-- to be continued…
-- from a history of the world