generations

mer 14 coverThe Mom Egg Review issue on “Change” is now out. At least one reader has this to say about the collection:

 “..(H)ere I am, having read every word in a 3-day Mom Egg marathon.  It is a wonderful book, impressive in the scope and depth and honesty of the work presented. The poetry is particularly strong and leaves one feeling richer knowing that there are a lot of people out there who sift and ponder and construct meaning as they drive to work and fold the sheets and feed the kids. There is beauty in tending life, and you have managed to capture it and present it to the world.”–Patrice Boyer Claeys

I am honored to have a poem of mine included in this themed edition. The journal publishes writing by mothers, and if anything spells “MOTHER” it is the ability to adapt and change. Which is what makes this issue so interesting – seeing the many, many ways ‘change’ is interpreted, understood and represented through the mother filter.

As a further example of change, the poem as accepted (below) has already undergone several significant changes and may appear elsewhere in altered form, even under changed title. Thus is the nature of mothering, and the recording of same.

GENERATIONS

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Unabashedly abundant, new growth clematis
spills across the river-side railing, sprouts
up through decking cracks, climbs and twists
tight tendrils about trellis and feeder, purple
flags aflutter effusively eclipsing

worn-to-shreds strips of sturdy old vine
holding steady yet, weathered
from years of climbing, carrying on
the singular task of stringing sturdy structures
to root offshoots in the rich soil of home.

This intertwined tangle my dream of family
extended: roots sunk and shoots sprung
from the richness within, weathered fore-vines
supporting the new finding their own way
out, up and ahead.

swb

 

gifts of this week

A wide-winged monarch skimming over head along my bike ride

A young fox cavorting in the early dusk meadow

A hummingbird hovering at eye level with me for prolonged moments

A spirit bear of Lake Champlain stone washed to my feet during my morning walk

A lingering sunset turning from soft pink to fuchsia to deep peach across the hour

A peach tree laden with ripening rosy fruit, after a decade without

Row upon row of leafing sprouts just two weeks post-sowing

A hunting hawk winging on the updraft of an August afternoon

Abundant blueberries again and again

A lunch with my children en route to vacation

two sistersMy sister safely moved and settled into her new home

A cool river breeze covering me with a night’s deep sleep

starting anew

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Where it all began

Thanks to Robert Lee Brewer’s April Platform Challenge, I am feeling emboldened to launch my new and improved site. Like all of us, it remains a work in progress. My hope is for it to inform and inspire.

I’d like to create the impression of a hopeless romantic; but that’s my husband Jim’s department. In fact, this artsy shot of palms against hot sand was taken by my equally artsy daughter at our Puerto Rican family reunion last October. Yes, that would be my husband’s family. In a real sense, it DID all start here. Island get-aways, time to reflect and write of sand and sea . . . with Jim’s supportive encouragement, without which neither I nor this site would have come to be.