Poets United

My daughter brought home a virus the other day and life has not been the same. I so far am fighting a myriad of symptoms.  My heart is sick, so many phone calls a day to Mom. I feel tortured, she is going through things and I know I should be there. Memories are swirling around her.  I know she is dizzy as she digs further into her past. She found parts to an old movie projector, probably from the Rockland Drive-In.  She called Gary, his Dad use to manager the theater, where my parents met.  The manager was my Dad's best friend. She said, "they aren't ours to keep". I did remind her their weren't Gary's either; his Dad did not own the theater, but I let it go.  Then she starts talking about the colored window and I asked her to do something crazy.  I said, "Please go tear off a piece of the wall paper in the stair hallway". ( I really did want the window, but it isn't going to happen)


"You don't want that" her voice lifted.

"I do want it, please, just a piece"

"You really don't want that" she is getting irritated with me.

 "I really do"


I will make a collage out of it, with a photo of the window and the wall paper and a ruler.
We had a special place we measured how tall we were. It is sad, but I am the shortest in my family.
I was cursed by my Aunt, one day, that is story for  another day!

A sea of memories is washing over her. She calls and tells me she found, this or that. Then there is a story; her view and then mine, the adult vs. the child.  She knows I sometimes sat on the stairs, trying to hear the 9pm movie, listening and hearing things, that perhaps I shouldn't have heard.


Poets United prompt this week is  #65 windows; I thought about the colored window on the stairway. Every time I would bounce down the stairs I would look out, even when it was dark. My brother and I played Star Trek looking out and seeing the neighborhood walkers. "Look the GREEN people have landed; they shift, changing colors. We would laugh watching people through the window or seeing blue snow gracefully falling.  My Dad would come home would  and smile into the colored glass. The middle had a lacy, snowflake like pattern, you couldn't see out of it.  The light in this photo blocks out that view.   The east and west points of the diamond are green. This photo was taken by the realtor, when the property was listed. I have a photo somewhere, but I think it is in a photo album inside Mom's house. 


Colorful clown arrives
as blue rain falls
green with envy neighbors
watch our lawn of gold
love of music n' movies
 magic grows

My Dad the ringmaster
announcing the next act
Mom like Martha
lemon this, lemon that

Music matches mood
folk, country and classical
notes strummed on Gretsch
almost every Saturday night
blue lights appeared


 Down day was church quiet
Mon-Sat loud, thriving, busy house
the show always sold out
 
final act
quiet, hermit like Mom
framed in memories past
preserved in her museum
relics being dug up
clown reappears
door bell rings


side show open
ticket back to youth
when blue rain falls
green snow gave hope
treasured gold is our memories
holding our soul



lawn of gold=dandelions  One side of our lawn, green and beautiful. Other side full of dandy gold~