Manatee Dreaming

Photo from the internet

     manatee comes from the word 'manati,' meaning breast

     in the Taino (a pre-Columbian/Caribbean tribe) language

So I'm driving home from the dentist

mouth aching     numb lipped

it's hot and tourists are everywhere

crowding in summer's last frenzy

on the radio someone's singing

Havana Dreaming--but my fuzzy brain

hears manatee dreaming because it's hot     

because I'm glum     because my lips are numb

and suddenly I'm there--

off with those monstrous looking angels

of the deep and we are cool

and placid in turquoise waters

not your fancy dolphin-types

leaping gaily into the air  

but solid      Midwestern sort

of creatures     no nonsense animals…

I remember once at an aquarium

coming face to face with one

only thin glass between

the wrinkled head and me   

and nose to nose we exchanged smiles

the small gentle eyes

seeming to know me

and she seeming happy

as if her life on display

were no matter

as if I were the one to be pitied

more than her and she would have

if she could  have      hugged me

to her great pillowy breast

and kindly told me all

I would ever need to know

IF ONLY

Artwork by Nina, Henry, and Mimi

this poem won an Honorable Mention in a recent contest...

IF ONLY 

for David

We are cooking biryani

my boy and I, and drinking wine. 

Children of our blood

and dogs tumble at our feet, 

cinnamon, ginger and garlic

permeate the kitchen air.

Breathing in the fragrance

we share these happy hours

and I imagine a day when I am gone--

my boy an old man,

his long-legged daughter

whirling now about the kitchen,

coming home to him again

and pouring the celebration wine,

he'll understand--there are moments
         you wish could go on forever...       

.

HAIKU BY A DESERT POOL

Photo by S. Auberle

the orange dragonfly

thought I was a  bright flower

could it be--I am?

and so I spoke to it--"Mom, is that you?" as it swooped closer and closer to get a look at me.  I said "I'm okay, Mom" and over the wall it flew away...

FOR SADAKO

Photo by S. Auberle

Today is the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima.  In Japan there is a legend that if you fold 1,000 paper cranes a live crane will grant you a wish.  Sadako Sasaki, a victim of leukemia as a result of the bombing is a heroine to the children of Japan, who visit her memorial in the Hiroshima Peace Park to leave paper cranes they've made in her honor.

For Sadako, who never got to grow old…

born the year after me, who did.

Her beautiful bones stricken

by the atom bomb disease,

she was only two

when Hiroshima was bombed,

and though spared that awful day,

the poison lurked within,

and ten years later consumed her.

Only because I was born

across the world, did I receive

 the gift of growing old

and when these bones

of mine are ash, fling them

into the sky, into wind

and my beloved lake,

return them to earth,

let them make a tree.

Mix my ashes with Sadako

and all those who have died

and are dying every day,

in our still-misguided

attempts at ending war.

Blend me into that soul

waiting to be born, the one

who will finally  bring peace,

for until we learn, there is nothing--

not even a thousand cranes--

that can save us now.