I am awake, having a cup of coffee, and looking forward to starting today’s marathon. I did my first marathon in 2019 and am happy to say I have not missed one since. I just had my first book of poetry, Hello, Old Age, published. I credit the Poetry Marathon with providing the foundation for most of the poems that were included in the book.
Linda Hallstrom
lindahallstrom
When I was in fourth grade, I won a classroom essay contest. The prize was a pencil case. Since that day, writing has been a hobby, a career, and a passion. I spent most of my professional life as a journalist, newspaper columnist, and public relations specialist. In my semi-retirement years, I find joy in writing and teaching poetry.
Bookstore
Our regular table
in a used bookstore.
What a fine idea that they sell wine
along with books
and schedule poetry readings
and trivia nights.
What a blessing
that I know women
who love wine and books and trivia.
Women who drive downtown
once a week to find parking
and drink wine
and inhale the scent of books.
How lucky to know women
who prefer cozy places
away from the in crowd
who value conversation
and laughter
and friendship.
Women without agenda
or pretense.
The women who gather
at our regular table
in a used bookstore.
Mystic Cattle
Cattle seem indifferent
when they enter the slaughter house
marching compliantly to their death.
Perhaps they know
and just don’t resist.
Perhaps they hold some cosmic secret
about the next life
or their karmic reward.
Perhaps their seeming indifference
masks a deep mystic certainty.
Food
I wish I had my mother’s gift
for making something out of nothing.
A can of tuna
is creamed tuna on toast.
Flour turns drippings into gravy.
Jello is a fancy desert.
Leftover roast beef
is a Sunday night sandwich.
Rhubarb is a pie.
Apples make a sauce.
Her kitchen was an allegory
for life lessons.
Laughter
What a joyous guffaw
shook me to my feet.
Humor bubbled down from my brain
then circled to my funny bone.
Words and image meshed and melded
tickling my brain stem
then exiting through my throat
my tear ducts
and, ungracefully,
through my nose.
Gigan
We used to play mancala
in the evening or on a Sunday afternoon.
Newlyweds with time to enjoy each other,
laughing at a loss
shrugging off a win
wanting only the togetherness
and something to do.
Colored stones clicking
moving faster with each round
faster like time.
We used to play mancala
wanting only the togetherness.
One day we stopped making time
for togetherness.
No more mancala.
No more marriage.
Time and Quiet
Give me time and quiet
to read a hardback book
out under an oak tree
not on some pavement.
Give me time and quiet
and a hardback book
under an oak tree.
Let me carry a satchel
with extra volumes (just in case)
to that quiet space
Nail a sign above me
that says “Do not disturb.”
I’ll return when I’m ready,
when I’ve had enough of time and quiet.
In Memory of Spot
Spot quietly accepted his role as family dog
ate cereal from a spoon
wore a bib
put up with me.
Learned to sit up
and say, “Please.”
Ran to meet me
when I came home from school.
Never complained about being saddled
with a name from Dick and Jane.
Slept in the basement.
Ate Red Heart dog food from a can.
Barked at the mailman.
Broke his back leg.
Thumped around in a cast.
Stayed out of the frontroom
and off from the furniture.
Knew his place.
Except when he didn’t.
Except when he escaped out the back screen door
and raced free through the neighborhood,
looking for girl dogs,
enticing them,
and fathering lots of little Spots.
100 Years Ago
Two years without a drink …
a legal drink.
Two years of ear-to-the-ground
scrounging
for satisfaction.
Two years of watching criminals
make a killing.
Financial killing.
Bloody killing.
Two years since the government
passed judgment on me,
branded me immoral,
removed my choice.
Oh, Lord, bring me back 100 years from now
to 2022
to a reborn America
to freedom of choice.
If things have not changed by then, Lord,
at least let me have a legal drink.
Birthday Photo
A birthday photo of a dog
says something about the owner
but little about the dog.
The owner loves either all of life
or only one small canine part of life.
Spends money because there is money to spend
or spends beyond budget and reason.
Invites a dozen friends to the party
or celebrates as a party of two.
Thanks the dog for heroic deeds
or spoils the dog for no reason at all.
Rescued an elderly dog from the shelter
or splurged on a purebred puppy.
Welcomes the dog into a large family
or makes a family of the dog.
The dog meantime knows this:
attention
soft couch
food
and doesn’t care to see the photo.