art Henri Matisse
It's Woman's Work
He rushed past the threshold
With barely a glance back
No concern for his son’s lost shoe
Or his daughter’s missing “my little pony”
It’s woman’s work
And he need not bother
He works hard, he explained
But went to great pains
To catch a game
He was important, you know
Above menial chores
But he would soon learn
The cost of his absence
Could not be repaid,
Ever, amen
And the perpetual woman’s work
Came to an end, left undone
When the love dried up
Only a fool assumes she will forgive
Without appreciation for the little things she did
Like a kettle overboiled scalding his heart
The scar will remain long after she departs
Memory of her holding their son,
Or kissing a boo-boo,
Vivid and clear
Woman's work endeared
Many years later
The lonely man advises the younger,
"As you pass the threshold
Remember to glance back
For you never know
Which day will be your last"
Shadowed secrets
Weight my mind
Ground me in clouds
Greyer than time
Do you remember me?
Or am I a figment
Of a lie
You pretend to deny
Open now to sunlight
In the gloom
I make no sound
Simply pray
On a starlit wing
Returning to me
my soul replete
Treading lightly
In a new day
-Lisa Thomson Wells
image source: Ben Nelms for CBC “Aggressive Wildfire Threatens Major Okanagan Cities”
Untitled
Only the Lucky Ones
Orange, smokey skies
Cloud our thoughts
Confusion and loss
Invade our lives
Burning out of control
Devil’s breath destroys
Leaving our home behind
Only the lucky ones
Get out alive
-LTW
With the wildfires foremost on my mind, the above poem came to me naturally. I can’t think of a title though. Strange as usually titles come to me first.
I’ve been thinking about the evacuees due to wildfires in both the Interior British Columbia and Yellowknife, in the Northwest Territories. In addition, the tragedy of Lahaina in Maui, Hawaii has weighed heavily on my mind as I’m sure it has with you as well.
Normally I would write about ‘summer’ and what I’ve been up to but summer hasn’t been pleasant with wildfires dominating the news. The season’s no longer as charming as its endless blue skies and incredible sunsets. It is disturbing. I do feel that our world is truly on fire.
Just for reference, the city of Yellowknife is the most northern city in Canada. There is no daylight on the winter solstice and no darkness on the summer solstice. I’ve heard from people who have lived there that it is a magical place where the Aurora Borealis dances and the community, although fraught with a colorful history, is tight knit.
If you are curious about this city, I recommend reading Elizabeth Hay’s Late Nights On Air. I’ve read it twice because it’s that good. It is fiction (semi-autobiographical) and takes place in the mid-late 1970’s. She weaves the political issues and the growth of the city of Yellowknife in her story making the city itself a central character. The story takes you through the wilderness as well which is a vicarious way to experience the Great North without leaving your couch (haha).
I pray the city will survive and the evacuees can return to their homes and livelihoods. Ditto for the city of Kelowna which has been hit hard in the suburban areas. I saw on the news that the conditions for fighting the fires have improved but still, no rain in forecast to assist.
To give you a visual, you see on the map below exactly where Yellowknife is located. The Interior cities in British Columbia are southwestern part of the map.
Summer isn’t over yet and nor are the wildfire dangers. Let’s hope for improvement in the next few days. What’s happening in your part of the world? Do you feel overwhelmed by climate change, or the ‘news’ in general? Let’s chat in the comments. Also, if you can suggest a title for my poem please tell me in the comments. 🙂 Thank you, LA CONTESSA who suggested the title for my poem!
Photo by Randy Kinne on Unsplash
Do you love him? he asked
Yes, she answered a little too quickly
He could see through her lies
And her phony goodbyes
He touched her hand
His heart flickered
And he saw into her soul
His twin flame alight
When I was a child this odd and haunting song was often heard on the radio. I didn’t know what it was called or who sang it but it was both dreamy and sad. Something about life’s illusions. What even are life’s illusions? I would ponder.
There was a carousel or was that a different song? No, it was a ‘ferris wheel’ and a ‘circus crowd’.
We’re already half way through summer. It always goes far too quickly of all the seasons. Winter? Dragging…like an ellipses. Spring? The start of a new thought; like a semicolon. Autumn? Gathering, like a comma ordering things. But summer! The exclamation of the seasons. Bright, long days, swimming, parties and other exclamatory activities! But gone all too soon.
I had a dream.
You treated me to a tattoo
For my birthday surprise.
I could not decide on the design
So many choices!
It’s funny, because
I realized
How hard this must be.
For you loathe tattoos
But want me to be
Happy just the same.
It was so clean and
The needle pain-free.
The final poke brought
me into a club–The Tattoo Club.
My forearm was the extremity of choice
(but never would be in real life).
Ink so bold and yet I felt the same.
I awoke before it bled,
Then I laughed as I watched you sleep beside me.
You had no idea what you had just done.
LTW.
Are you in the tattoo club?
image source: Photo by Natalie Rhea on Unsplash
I’m thinking there are two types of people in this world: those who mend and those who discard. Actually let me add a third type; those who want to mend but cannot. They take their mending to have it done by a pro (smart folks).
I used to be in the second and third category but as I’ve gotten a bit older, I mend more often. Since I was a child, I have almost ‘enjoyed’ sewing by hand. Almost. My grandma taught me how to thread the needle and how to make a few stitches. I used to watch her ‘darning’ my father’s socks when she came to stay with us. She was pretty good with a sewing needle. She did not have a sewing machine.
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