Praise

2010 074 (2)

Inside the sitting room of my memory

play the retired ghosts of past years.

School’s out. The summer heat shimmers

so bright, even coolers and fans cannot

bring down the day’s fever. In the garden

a chameleon changes colors faster than a

thirteen year old changes her mind.

The trees weary of the heat droop

over; dropping gold coins that curl up

when dry, flocking into heaps of fallen pride

waiting to be swept away the next morning.

In the sitting room my father irons a week’s

worth of his white collar job into perfectly

creased shirts and pants. I lean over into the

floor painting carnivals of landscapes, rich pastels

bleeding into the white marble floor.

Inside the kitchen my mother tosses red chilies

into pots of simmering curry hot as day. And my sister

straightens her curls with dreamy fingers, musing up her

life in teenage novels.

How sad that we should never offer praise to the simpler moments

of life, at least not until decades later when the sitting room with its

resident memories has gone up in gold and silver smoke

billowing into the cool, black night…

 Inspired by DailyPost

Tomorrow

A wintry day in school,
Learning by wrote, conformance is rule,
Everyone seems to catch on in class,
But I, who yet again forgets homework, detention alas!

At lunch I play alone,
A snow cannonball aimed for my head,
Missed by a few inches,
This whole school thing is way overblown,

Mom is in hospital,
A problem gynecological,
Should be back in a week?
She is so far, we can’t see her, nor speak.

Dad makes egg omelet yet again,
Outside snow falls thick,
Dear God, bring mommy back, Amen,
My sister breaks her tooth.

Next morning I feign sickness,
Dad is too clever to fool,
He packs us lunch and sends us off to school,
Wrapped up in woolens, snow shoes, and beanie hats.

Andrea is my only friend,
I walk with my head down; won’t confide nor vent,
It’s been longer than a week, why won’t she come back?
I take my itchy beanie hat, and stomp all over it.

Back at home Dad looks happy and bemused,
My teacher called to complain,
But he has better News,
Mom is coming back home tomorrow!