she spends hours coloring mandalas in adult coloring books from Amazon, dozens of them, I’ve lost count over time, she needs them, she says, they help to keep her mind from dwelling on the pain… incessant, excruciating pain sometimes late at night I hear the sharpener grinding wood and pencil lead… grinding, grinding, grinding and occasionally, deep moans as she shifts position the sound makes the dogs bark and the cats scatter to the shadows I can’t begin to imagine it, my aching arthritic knees seem trivial to the monster that consumes this once brilliant, vibrant, caretaker of others who now depends on others, on me, for everything I can’t begin to know when it may become too much for her to fight this impossible fight try as I might to ease the burdens of life I’m powerless to stop the pain…so… I keep buying coloring books and pencils and I cook her favorite things, pork chops, Dutch babies, sweetened coffee cream, Italian ice cups and I help her complete little tasks and big ones like getting the band on that citizen’s watch adjusted to her shrinking wrist I’m not a watch wearer but she has always been and it was important to her, I could tell… little things…are sometimes very big deals in sickness and in health, I once said and meant it…til death… an unwelcome visitor who taunts her daily as I do my best to hold things together to try to make things better in these worst of times…do us part
Well it’s been a week. Took time away from my day job to catch up on a few big projects at home. Here in the US we call it a staycation but don’t let that close kinship to the word vacation fool you. Staycations are anything but relaxing, recharging, getaways because, as the name implies, one “stays”. All this to say after an exhausting week, I only managed to pen three poems. I really like the shadorma though, and will give it another go next week when life settles into normal.
With only three days worth of inspiration to glean from, I decided to do a full harvest of verse taking each line in sequence from each day. A mashup reVerse poem if you will, rather than waiting for another week to assemble adequate content. Amazingly, it works.
We’d less to say, the silly chores did not wait, but I have a much cleaner garage to show for it, several appointments finally attended after having been canceled when life sidetracked our plans, and I got a few naps in…boy did I need those.
I’m looking forward to this coming week, getting back to my day job and the routine I’ve perfected over the course of this challenging year. I’m still exhausted but it feels oh so good to be able to find a hammer when I need one!
Happy September and impending Autumn to you! The cooler mornings are exhilarating! 😊
A “Mash-Up” ReVerse Poem - Sunday, 3 September 2023
a day off clouds hang low this I know with so much to do a blanket of mist when nothing seems true but I’m trapped dawn is east underneath on treetops dusk is west two hundred pounds of pure love cool rain droplets dust my face the sun rises, then it sets silly chores can wait this could be heaven the moon lights the night
~kat
A ReVerse poem (a practice I started many years ago) is a summary poem with a single line lifted from each entry of a collection of work over a particular timeframe and re-penned in chronological order as a new poem. Unlike a collaborative poem, the ReVerse features the words of one writer, providing a glimpse into their thoughts over time.
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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