Star and Moon Sky: NaPoWriMo

 

 

 

Do you remember? We watched the clouds fly across that June sky,

wondering about our lives, watching that black-blue sky.

 

It was long ago, we were full of life, in blazing afternoon sky,

and two hearts keeping time, beating under the moon, June sky.

 

We pledged our love before our family and friends, a noon, June sky,

Settling-in to life together, playful, joyous, a spoon and swoon sky.

 

We grew older, not necessarily wiser, encountering an out-of-tune sky,

yet I’d not change it, not at all, not even for a jewel-strewn sky

 

The jewels are here and there, you see, felt and heard in the moon-croon sky,

the moments, still, we gaze and share. (Do you remember? )There, that star and moon sky.

 

This is a ghazal for today’s (Day 13) NaPoWriMo.   I can’t get the formatting right, but they are couplets with some long lines. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Sunday Travels

 

Monday Morning Musings:

“It is not down in any map; true places never are.”

–Herman Melville

A trip to see my mother,

not the one of birth

but the one in-law

(Is it a human trait to group and classify?)

I think of her as a young girl in Scranton, PA.

she and her sister, and the adventures they had

little girls in braids

roaming the hilly streets

to library, school, and church

playing with their friends

Rock Around the Clock

And Love is a Many Splendored Thing

She fell in love—love of her life–

and became a parent so young,

equal parts excitement and terror

I imagine.

Did she wonder was this what it meant to be an adult?

In less than a year, she’ll be eighty,

not so old anymore,

eighty, it’s the new sixty,

fourscore years

just a blink in the life of the universe

but enough time to build a life—and then some.

 

We travel through three states: New Jersey, Maryland,

and Pennsylvania,

crossing back and forth over the Mason-Dixon line

I look out the window

verdant rolling hills

goats, horses, and cows grazing contently

in the glistening grassy fields

waves of lavender-colored wildflowers in another field,

it is drizzling, and our daughter needs a bathroom stop,

a typical car trip.

 

With my brother and sister—also in-law–and their son

we take this other mother of mine to lunch

a belated Mother’s Day celebration,

we laugh at how my husband and his brother,

do the same jog-walk, arms pumping,

we eat sandwiches and French fries

and talk of this and that

we return to her house for dessert

and then the women sit in the living room to talk

while the men and boy go downstairs,

we talk of my daughter’s teaching job,

the play her students performed

the porn site her students discovered

(Ooops!)

we marvel at how the boy has grown,

his boyhood now shadowed by the man he will become,

taller and broader,

his opinions proclaimed in a deeper voice,

self-assured and absolute with the confidence of youth.

 

Soon it is time to leave,

back over the Mason-Dixon line

using technology that Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon

could never have imagined,

traveling through a nation that was still a colony

when they surveyed it,

traveling over a line that became more important a century later

for those who sought freedom from slave state to free,

traveling back on highways,

retracing our path home,

through time and space.

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Grandmother and granddaughter–both grand!