(partial response to the poetry
prompt from Poets & Writers, 11/17/16)—a. fonte
Sports: Cubs win,
Olympics in Rio are a bust.
Politics: Bernie’s
tufts of white hair, Hillary’s white pantsuits, Trump’s “Make America White
Again”.
Home: New carpet is a mottled cloud, Gray (the cat) helps us play quiet, neighbors
come and go, wave their hands, avoid making eye contact while dead palm tree
fronds clutter the pool.
Work: Stuck in second
gear. Like a kid struggling to ride a
bicycle, I fall off TENWEST, pick myself up with TEDx, bump into BuildUP^, and
coast through do happy today.
Writing: Stuck in
second gear. Poetry is my harbor;
fiction is my reading compass; non-fiction is my bread and butter. Blogs are bittersweet.
Travel: Too brief a
time in Maui where the water is warm, the sand pillows around my toes and wind
blows flower petals across my eyes. I learn hula and let go of my hips, eat
homemade granola for breakfast, and am delightfully dampened by mist at a luau. My husband and son learn to play together
again.
