The Mint-Lady
The fast food restaurant stands on the corner
Just off to the right from the lonely exit.
The old lady who works there has white hair.
She tucks those long, curly, fly-away strings
Under her black baseball cap as
She cleans the untouched, unused, and unvisited
Surfaces of tables and chairs.
Excitement rises in her heart when
A young family enters
Happily and hungry,
To stay awhile.
Waiting by the trash bin,
She picks up her brown
Wicker basket that she brings from
Home each day.
Wrapped mints lie in anticipation to be
Accepted and enjoyed after meals.
Her glasses reflect each
Hungry traveler’s face
As she happily approaches.
She smiles and a sweet voice reaches out
From among the Solitude,
“Take a mint for the road?”
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Piggy-back
Piggy-Back
My toddler’s feet are size seven.
So tiny, plump, smooth.
When I lift him up
From the wet sandbox,
Muddy wood chips
Sprinkle the grass
As I swing him on my back.
Small fingers sift my hair
Rather than hold onto
My shoulders for
Balance.
He slips and
Starts to fall.
But I always catch him.
Back on top and
Balance
Made much stronger,
The green-vined exit,
Doesn’t seem much
Farther.
My toddler’s feet are size seven.
So tiny, plump, smooth.
When I lift him up
From the wet sandbox,
Muddy wood chips
Sprinkle the grass
As I swing him on my back.
Small fingers sift my hair
Rather than hold onto
My shoulders for
Balance.
He slips and
Starts to fall.
But I always catch him.
Back on top and
Balance
Made much stronger,
The green-vined exit,
Doesn’t seem much
Farther.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
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