Good Morning World

Good Morning World

On the front porch at dawn

watching the world wake up

greeting ‘good morning’ to folks

walking by with their dogs

after saying goodbye to visiting 

family off on a long journey home

I stay here with my coffee and words

offering a a thankful hello to 

A New Day

                                       JoMae
                                        9/27/17 

Dawn

A Savored Memory

One early August morning, 

the summer of John’s death, 

in that sleepy state of half awake, 

I caught a glimpse of him 

neatly dressed for the day, 

walking around the end of our bed, 

over to my side.  

The vision quickly vanished.

yet remains engraved  -

a gift that brought to mind 

an early morning moment captured

many years ago in this small poem:

 ~~ DAWN ~~

Up at dawn 

he gently tucked her with the sheet

and fixed it where the mattress corner

had come undone above her head

then slipping out

went down to put the coffee on

He did not know

that in her semi conscious morning sleep

she was aware

and felt the precious oil of his love

flow through her veins

 a secret blessing

JoMae
7/29/88

                              

Broken Puzzle

Year after year John's Prize Geranium blooms on

 

“Past Life Lives in the Living”   —Wendell Barry  

I’ve been reading Barry’s “Sabbath Poems” these days.  They speak to the pondering that goes on within as I pick up the pieces scattered about by the earthquake that took John and left my own core scattered in the wind.  These jigsaw cells, once us, now strewn, must be collected and re-configured to discover whose were whose and which live on. And how.  It is a puzzle. A broken puzzle.

 Broken Puzzle

Putting the pieces back together

when half have disappeared

is nye unto impossible

Yet hearts, they say, do mend

though not without deep scar 

tissue filling gaps of

Missing Pieces

JoMae
9/10/17