Monthly Archives: November 2018

Family Reunion, Off the Grid

Click on first photo to enlarge all.  

 

 

 

Family Reunion, Off the Grid

We find the key to the lake cabin
there where it always was above the eaves trough,
enter that family space deserted for so many years
and claim our old rooms.
Bring in firewood piled on the porch thirty years ago
and draw together at the trestle table
over dinners gathered
from the ice chests in the trunks of cars.

Dependent for so many years
on cell phones, e-mail and Facebook,
we grow listless over the loss of cell tower and wifi,
fall back on family videos from the far past,
and having exhausted that sparse shelf,
resort to family albums, dusty with accumulated years.

Over those cryptic signals from the past,
we begin to remember more,
and recall scraps of ourselves
that give a meaning to the name of scrapbook.
With no single screens possible,
we draw together over simple common images.

Dad in the neighbor lady’s hat,
sis in diapers and my mother’s heels,
my tea towel sarong and doily hat,
Mother, young enough to be our granddaughter,
in a stylish hat tipped down over one eye,

Middle sister standing triumphant at the top
of the slide she later fell from the top of—
a past truth I might have never known
if not sealed up, like this,
away from the wider world
and those parts of ourselves
that keep flying off to it.

I take her hand, grateful for her survival.
Just the two of us, now,
everyone else sealed up in this peeling album.
We put them to sleep again as we close its cover.
In the morning, restore the key,
nestle the “For Sale” sign more securely
into its mooring place and divide to our separate worlds,
the box of videos under my arm,
the family scrapbooks under hers.

The prompt words are past, video, listless and dependent.

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/ragtag-tuesday-past/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/13/fowc-with-fandango-video/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/listless/
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2018/11/13/your-daily-word-prompt-dependant-November-13-2018/

Words from a Dying Snowman

Words from a Dying Snowman.

“What lights your world may bring about another creature’s ending.”

 

For Daily Inkling’s prompt: Words of wisdom from a Snowman in ten words.

Sunday Trees, Nov 12, 2018

 

For Becca’s Sunday Trees.

Purple Passion

You can enlarge photos by clicking on any one.

 

 

https://travelwithintent.com/2018/11/11/purple/

Chrysanthemums: FOTD, Nov 12, 2018

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For Cee’s FOTD

Generational Angst

Generational Angst

She could not quench her anger over all the agitation
caused by her father’s ire, or her mother’s castigation.
Their home life was a parody of what a life should be.
They were a group of separate “I’s.” There was no “us” or “we.”

He surveyed his daughter mainly from afar.
The only time she deigned to talk was to usurp the car.
She was so disrespectful he could barely hold his tongue.
Why was it so difficult to converse with the young?

She’d thought she’d have a daughter to fuss over and dress.
but when it came to this one, she was driven to confess,
her daughter lately gave no sign that she had once adored her.
Rather, all the indications were that she abhorred her.

Her mother dressed in mom jeans and her dad tucked in his shirts.
Then looked askance when she appeared in bandeaus and short skirts.
When they tried to speak her language, it only caused distress.
TBH, they had not a clue, and she could not care less.

This is the modern family. The parents sorely vexed.
The daughter is embarrassed, her mom and dad perplexed.
Why can they not communicate? Where is the veneration
that seems to be missing in this modern generation?

Parents cannot understand because they don’t recall
all of the resentment, embarrassment and gall
that they once felt for parents back when they were teens.
This disdain from their daughter was passed down in their genes.

This too shall pass, I’d like to say. Give it a little time.
The year will come when being parents will not be a crime.
Her growing up and having kids will be the end of it.
You’ll be her heroes once again when you can baby sit!

 

Words of the day are quench, parody and castigation.

It seems that Daily Addictions is no longer publishing prompts, so if someone knows of a daily word prompt not given below, please leave a comment for me in this post with a permanent link to that prompt. (One that will work everyday)

Here are today’s links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/12/rdp-monday-quench/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/12/fowc-with-fandango-parody/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/12/castigation/

Getting Square with Time (Becky’s Timessquare Prompt)

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It chips away. It casts a pall.
The face of time affects us all.

 

For: https://beckybofwinchester.com/2018/11/01/the-clock-is-ticking/#more-12391

On Reflection

Yes, they get bigger.  Just click on one.

 

On Reflection

We squirrel away the memories, their details much enhanced.
How is it that they did not leave us as our lives advanced?
As our lives acquired more finesse, the games were not so fun.
We appreciate the playing more now that it is done.
The games we play in later life are done with pens and papers
but oh, we well remember those early childhood capers.
First loves of adolescence as we fumbled through the rules—
how to play the game of love not taught in any schools.
And though our later lives may be filled with fun and zest,
Long afternoons or late at night, old memories are best.

 

https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2018/11/11/rdp-sunday-squirrel/
https://fivedotoh.com/2018/11/11/fowc-with-fandango-advanced/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2018/11/11/finesse/

Best Birthday Ever

Matt asked us to tell about our best birthday ever. I would have to say that in spite of being sick on my last two birthdays, they turned out to be two of my favorite.  Here are links to posts that tell about this year’s birthday: 

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2018/07/03/birthday-reflections/

https://judydykstrabrown.com/2018/07/03/81429/

 

For Daily Inkling

Dropped

Dropped

The night is a broken cup,
its last sip spilled
from a shattered edge.

My thirst unslaked,
I dream
dry dreams

that go unquenched
by morning’s
gentle rains.

The dVerse Poets prompt was to write a poem that was an extended metaphor. Brief poem? Brief metaphor.