My husband's poetry

Category: Family

  • White lace

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    cfblack
    in , ,

    Where I sit the arm on our couch is worn It is then I understand why My mother and her mother and her mother… Sat for hours in a corner chair Crocheting frilly, white, lace doilies to protect The fabric of furniture from wear And I wonder about other tedious daily chores She performed to…

  • For Barb and Kathy

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    on an old green swingset, new to us, we launched ourselves so high in the sky It threatened to tip us backward in the grass we would fling ourselves towards the sun competing who could fly the furthest I used to win a lot maybe, it was because I did not fear the landing or…

  • Reading Anne Frank

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    cfblack
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    I wonder what became of the family who hid Anne Frank in an upstairs room I wonder if one of my siblings or a childhood friend would have turned her family in and gloated as they were hauled away I wonder if I would have the strength of character to say, “No More” 1-29-25

  • The end is the beginning, is the middle, is the end

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    by

    cfblack
    in , , ,

    My father was always concerned with the now, with what I’m doing with today with not wasting time in pursuit of frivolous things. When my first book of poetry came out, he told me on the phone that he read my book and he didn’t think much of it. At the end he spoke of…

  • Sun day

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    “Because you are alive, everything is possible.” — Thich Nhat Hanh light reflected in a mirror takes nothing from the sun our shadows walk across the ground but cannot diminish our bodies in their journeys our physical perfections and imperfections have no impact on the spirit and so it goes I am responsible for my…

  • Don’t overeat

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    by

    cfblack
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    tomorrow is Thanksgiving I am thankful – just not the usual way no false narrative of kind Pilgrims and happy contented Indians our two daughters are gathering in Raleigh my siblings, nieces and nephews and an old aunt or two are gathering in my Indiana home ground I wish we could teleport instantaneously between locations,…

  • Last night

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    cfblack
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    Last night I dreamed a dream I did not want to dream ___ I dreamed family and friends were mean and petty to me no matter where I fled they followed and ridiculed me for seeking solitude ___ I woke up angry at my dreaming self for dreaming mean and petty dreams of others and…

  • Indiana Winter Sundays on Greenbush Street

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    by

    cfblack
    in ,

    (09/08 – 1950’s memory poems) Under a doily covered table with a lamp, two African violets, and a half-filled ashtray; among claw-footed legs lay an out-of-round coconut, its outer husk intact, a large yellow conch shell with pink inner lips, Florida souvenirs from my aunt. Grandad said hold it to your ear, listen to the…

  • (no title)

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    Before our parents died and my brother bought their house an old flour sifter lay under the cabinet on a shelf next to a hand cranked egg beater Now they exist only in dreams of cake batter bowls waiting to be licked clean before momma demands I share 9-4-24

  • Twenty Floors Up, Peering Out a Window

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    by

    cfblack
    in , ,

    08/22 In the window of my dream high above the street I see my father float by in an aquamarine 1957 Desoto. Tailfins like a shark red brake lights shining as he stops to wave. I forgot that before I knew him he had hair and friends called him Red. I wonder if somewhere in…