Earth brings people together
As it decides to break from itself.
Such a beautiful, twisted love.
Earthquake.
Mary Gabis
eve-mary
Eve is a 5th grade teacher in Massachusetts. She has been writing poetry since she was seven. Mary, her daughter, is presently teaching English in Santiago, Chile. This year, Eve and Mary are teaming up as a mother-daughter team to share our love of words.
Little Girl Come Full Circle
She stands in front of
the mirror
admiring her reflection:
two neat braids,
a new dress,
shiny shoes,
ready to start her
first day of school.
Strangers,
A strange place.
What adventures await her?
Who will be her friends?
Will they like her?
Will she like them?
What if she forgets their names?
What if she can’t remember how to write her own name?
What if she gets lost walking home?
Will someone find her and tell her
she was missed,
is loved?
She peers into
the mirror
straining to see her reflection:
her white hair combed,
her favorite sweater,
orthopedic shoes.
Ready to start her
first day of geriatric care.
Strangers,
A strange place.
What happened to the old days?
Where are her friends?
Do they remember her?
What if she forgets her loved ones’ faces?
What if she can’t remember they love her?
What if she gets lost?
Will someone find her and tell her
what she knows in her heart:
she is missed,
she is loved.
Eve T. Remillard
Continental Drift
The sun rises on grated brick
As I skip
To the click
And beat of my feet
Placed within my shoes made by an Indian woman
Who is just like you.
I carry a stone of green, malachite.
It’s used so that my heart’s passion may be seen
By anyone or anything who tries to intervene
I am fuerte, strong.
I am in Chile, but not for long.
I wait for the metro and clutch the bracelet
That I purchased in a Russian park made of garnet.
My jeans from Holland hug my thighs tight
As if to keep my warmth safe from another’s intentions, dare if they might.
I am fuerte, strong.
I am in Chile, but not for long.
I travel in the physical, my exterior shows,
In my clothes and accessories, all the places I’ve known.
But my heart is what carries
All that I’ve seen
From mountains to cities,
My memory’s pristine.
I am fuerte, strong.
I am on Earth, but not for long.
Mary Gabis
Blue Neon Crucifixion
The bright lights,
the cheers, the jeers
of the crowd
pierced my dreams and
my heart pounded through
the fog of sleep.
There was Jesus
on the center cross
and Nixon on his right.
My father’s cross sat
waiting, illuminated
by blue neon.
He led the way
to his end,
smiling, jovial, joking,
while I watched, transfixed,
tears streaming down my face.
What was his sacrifice?
My father turned to kiss me, hug me,
my heart hammering against his thighs.
I didn’t want him to surrender.
My greatest childhood fear:
the death of my father.
His abandonment
lit up the night sky
in the blue neon
of my childhood nightmare.
Eve T. Remillard
Commute
Scratch, rumble, screech, SPARKS!
Many feet move off and on
In day and the dark.
Where are they going?
Where have they been all day long?
No words are exchanged.
I am silent too,
Contemplating my commute.
Scratch, rumble, screech, SPARKS!
Mary Gabis