The Poetry Marathon

Three hours on the train

With a friend and a good hat

Talking murder and mystery

While enjoying a nip of tea

Trying to understand Agatha

And how and why she did it

So many books stories and plays

She wrote more than she slept

Passing leaves changing now

The clatter of the iron tracks

Familiar from years long ago

When we waited for father to return

Now we pay to travel this time

If only for a three hour tour

Antique gals in vintage hats

Wondering who done it and why

Wedding rings easily rotate around

Old fingers on wrinkled hands

Mornings they are knuckle trapped

By dusk slip and slide right off

White hairs are found flown about

Gathering in corners squared

Under quilt with patches mended

Growing longer as each day passes

Skin still soft but flakes appear

Now getting closer to the source

She is aging from the outside in

Preferred to the other way round

Belly rubs before all else

Food prepared then we roam

A morning skip on dewy grass

Relief a romp return to home

This soft warm roommate

Has little choice to share

As morning news brightens

That dark corner there

My many barks may sound good

As I look into her eyes

She twists and turns a furry head

Curiously wondering why

Just like this for weeks and years

We never speak of it ending

As the thought brings tears

Reminding each our time is pending

Vintage continues to survive

Forgotten in the back of a drawer

Cherished perhaps saved for others

Who may never truly treasure

Smiles for those people passed

Salvaged in black and white

Glossy paper patterned edges

Turned over names and dates

Times were better then echoed

As if troubles began only now

Heads knowingly nod in unison

Those censored memories endure

Long white hair now wears blue

With friendly agreement

A ribbon a bow a band around

Blue never worked before now

Brown eyes remain a wee twinkle

And crinkles around each one

Natural lashes are few

Noticed with blackened help

Wardrobe has settled on black

Simple and without comment

Highlighting the blue above

Covering a widened girth

Blue pickup trucks abound

The sky shows blue hues

The ocean beneath debris

Hopes to return to blue

Singing the blues out loud

With no one to listen

Moving seductively alone

Into the kitchen for tea

rain again brings up

metal roof tappings

muddy moments near the door

woodchucks moved away

overgrown green madness

visiting flowers now seen

leaves reaching and waving

over windows this new view

tall lean pines appear sad

as lower limbs lose color

hoping for a new year

with sunshine lasting

Hello from Vermont!

24     One More Time

How many turns around the marathon block

Are left for me and others and you

Challenged and tired but yet grateful

For the time and mind to show up again

A community of word lovers who share

Across invisible space and boundaries

Truly a miracle of enduring humanity

Lest we forget where our goodness resides

23     Painter’s Tape

Loyal to duct tape

I am now cheating

With the easy to tear

Blue tape of painters

Wide and narrow rolls

Artists have known

Of this wonder over

Time and trial

Houses taped at edges

To protect the walls

And baseboards from

Unintentional daubs

Heavy watercolor paper

Held down before wet

To remain in place as

Beauty begins to appear

I have too many rolls

And this morning I will

Bring MaryAnn her first

I am changing a life

22     Making sure

Millie nudges under the blanket

Where she has slept for the night

Her breathing a mystery to me

As I place my hand on her chest

To be sure that it rises and falls

Gentle puppy yips as she dreams