Smoke Signals

From a distance

your face looks like an old man 

with a beard

as I move closer

it is only your chin

I cannot shake 

the image of beard

Growing up

I learned of European explorers

Puritans on the Mayflower

friendly Indians

never a mention

that I was living in a

post-genocidal nation

who had dropped

the first atomic bomb

after fire bombing Tokyo 

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dVerse prompt on smoke and mirrors

Smoke Signals

Togetherness

It was the end of summer.  The family had spent a few weeks in Iowa where my mother was now in hospice because of cancer.  Both grandchildren spent time at her bedside and played with cousins, saw  aunts and uncles and enjoyed the rare occasion of the whole family being together.

My younger sister would be the nurse.  She had the training.  I was worthless and returned home so the children could start school.  In a few days I got the call.  I booked a ticket to leave the next day.  The children wanted to know why I was going again, since I had just been there.

When your mother dies, you go there.

Togetherness

Yellowjackets

A yellowjacket is not a bee

it is aggressive

stings multiple times

eats meat and honey bees

My daughter stepped in a hive

we were walking in the woods

off trail when buzzing

erupted out of the ground

Run I yell

we all ran towards our house

I licked her three year old’s wounds

with baking soda and kind words

love that child with all her stings

Yellowjackets

I Poet

I

I came out of the canal listening

for my own voice

with my first breath

I heard it as a cry

I found darkness in my eyes

til opened to the light

I was that baby you wanted to be boy

I was made girl

all parts of me to receive touch

to open

to flower

 

II

Listening for my own voice

it navigated out of my thoughts

my mind spoke a product of time

of culture of possibilities

of bouquets gathered in spring

it was good to be who I am

 

III

Now the voice knows its own cry

weeps into the light and dark

listens with belladonna ears

what hallucinations will arise

I Poet

Pranked by History

History is no joke. It is a record of what is happening, happened or didn’t happen.  “Fake News” becomes history.  A current event is history tomorrow.  History is ancient or recent.  Ninevah was a real city buried in sand, with a real gate, resurrected and bombed.  

History is a joke when used to advance an agenda.  My fifth grade textbook world history teacher could never get to the chapter on the Middle East.  I would read ahead.  Daydream of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.  I wanted to dig deeper to see what was under the sand.

mind craves for meaning

ammunition for profit

know who benefits

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dVerse prompt – haibun on April Fools Day – being pranked 

Pranked by History