A family tree should provide open, welcoming arms Like the shade of leafy branches on a hot summer's day Shelter from the storms of life, the heat of stressful situations Still allowing light to filter through so you can make your own way A family tree is as varied as the many branches growing from sturdy trunks Offering strength, flexibility, and variety All are not the same but are tied to one another By familial bonds, biology, and geography Occasionally branches fall, break away Unable to weather the challenges of life Falling to the ground or driven far from its roots To be snatched up as driftwood and thrown into the flames of strife Often trees die, families are forgotten Even though its roots were deep It was wrenched from the soil by pestilence or natural disaster Its exposed rings tell the story even though asleep Once verdant, vibrant, and vigorous Its stump serves as a table for a child at play Whose family is just starting to put down roots Its exposed rings reveal life in its day
Yulana Low
YuLan
Oldest of seven: girl (me), sister, brother, brother, sister, brother, brother. Born and raised in Arizona. Joined the Women's Army Corps when I was 21, separated in 1973 at 26. Lived and worked in Arizona, Missouri, California, Alabama, Georgia, back to Arizona, Virginia, New York, Missouri, Colorado, back to Arizona, Florida, and back to California -- and this is it. Still working. Siblings scattered throughout the states: Florida, Arizona, Nebraska, and Washington.
No. 3: Time
Collecting objects is easy Their upkeep costs money, space, and Time Collecting friends is a gift To keep them requires consideration, compromise, and Time Collecting regrets is to be avoided Doing so takes planning, thought, and Time Time spent wisely Leads to a life of treasures, loved ones, and accomplishments, Collectively
No. 2: Heroes
Heroes We are All someone's hero Who Have I Worshipped for awhile Many Became my Idols to admire Some Have fallen Because they stumbled Some Fell away Because I grew Many Remain on My memory shelf I Dust them Off to admire I Looked beyond Their human foibles Because My own Faults are many Who Am I To judge another When Mine are Dismissed so freely Joan Ruth Bader Supreme Court Justice Marguerite Annie Johnson Poet Author Singer Arthalda Merica Agy Mother of seven
No. 1: Firsts
Aah First sip Hot morning joe As First rays Of morning sun Are First feelings Warming my soul
Why a Poetry Marathon?
Why a poetry marathon? Because I can’t run a marathon, nor a half marathon, nor a mile. I can walk. I can write. I attempt to write poetry. I love to read poetry. I did the half last year. I was determined to do the whole shebang this year. It’s a challenge I set before me. I intend to live up to my expectations. This year I will also read and comment on the efforts of fellow poets; it was encouraging to me and I know I can learn from others.
No. 11
between the introduction and the epilogue
there’s a story that catches me up in its grasp
taken in by the cleverly crafted characters
the twisting plot and subplots
i am transported into the scenes
i shudder, shiver, and scream in my head as if i were in a theater
i can pause the action by placing a book mark between the pages
most often i read well into the beginning hour if the next, eager to reach the climax
finished, i give the tome a fond pat, place it in the empty slot on the shelf
we will meet again, old friend
No. 12
end
of the
marathon of poetry
just
the half
did i write
it’s
fun delightful
run again – yes
No. 8
the
birds and
bees do it
humans
do it
when they can
hormones
drive it
though species differ
it
leads to
continuation of life
No. 7
haboob
dust storm
suffocating brown blackout
rolling
through the
waterless desert waste
sucking
vacuuming up
dryness desert dirt
dumping
its contents
on the cityscape
city
coughs chokes
cringes crouches cowards
No. 10
mask
wash hands
shelter in place
mask
eyes only
miss your face
hands
palms up
miss holding yours
sheltered
feel lonely
miss your presence