We were young
music was in our feet.
My older sister and I
left with the chores
of the evening after dinner
to clean the kitchen.
We would wash the dishes
and as we did, we danced.
rock and roll
and beach music,
the shag was the rage,
on linoleum floors.
Our grandparent’s home
with white wash cupboards.
a small kitchen table.
A swinging door to the dining room.
A door we kept closed
so we could dance to the radio.
a radio sitting on the yellow table
loud enough to get by …
not loud enough to get caught.
Elvis, Beach Boys and Buddy Holly
transformed into our bandstand
as we found ourselves dancing
in grandma’s kitchen …
CMM © 2022
I walk out on the porch
Dark from night skies
The sun still not up
The glow still dim
I look toward the walk
There she is meandering
Right in front of me.
She stops for a minute
Waits to see if I am moving
Of course I do not
After all her purpose is just
As she hunts her early prey
After her short pause
She scampers past me
Knowing I mean no harm
Off under the bush she goes
Into the darkness
Most likely to another house
Making her morning rounds
Not to be seen the rest of the day
I go inside, lock my door
I smile, she does not know me
I do not know where she comes
But, I always see where she goes
Into the darkness
Brave and aloof
Quiet and methodical
She seeks her morning quest…
CMM. 2022
He put his arm around me
Told me it was going to be ok.
This virus will not last forever
It will not stay…
My uncle told me that he loved me
the virus will go away
the vaccines are helping
this virus will not stay.
He will be a friend to call on
or a buddy to play ball
a confidant to share with
the switch games and all.
He put his arm around me
told me it was going to be ok.
The virus will not last forever,
this virus will not stay.
Love
Black eye peas my ancestors would say.
Eat them for luck on New Years Day.
A spoonful, a bowl they did not care.
Leaving the table , you did not dare .
Black eye peas will sit there forever
As it waits, this new year’s endeavor .
CMM © 2022
Tea leaves
Float aimlessly
Stirring moments
Of newness
New day
New year
New hopes
New beginnings
Some people read tea leaves
— I just drink them .
2022 © CMM
The Eve
The eve of New Year has arrived
The fog rolls in covering the lamppost
The dismal air filled with a chill of a pending storm.
Maybe this is it, maybe the fog will usher the new year.
Maybe the white snow trailing behind it will bed the past.
The squirrels will scamper into the nested trees
The only sound when we venture out will be our footsteps,
The screams of the last murder of crows left behind with hope.
The hope to find the last field just turned from farmer’s plow.
Crunching the frozen ground laid by winter’s arrival,
We are brought into the silence of ourselves
Maybe then, we will think to pray.
CMM. 2021
I walked into an antique shop
The richness of the past
Permeated through the air
Reflected in the glass
It was somber yet reflective
The wood floor creaked with announcement
As my feet shuffled in and around
I peeked at Santas and student lamps
Made of green shades beveled
In umbrella shapes to direct the flame
Antique brass writer’s quill
Stood alone without its calligraphy pen
Two retiring gentlemen were owners
One was a retired circuit judge.
He loved his clocks, and he loved working on them.
Asking him the price of the small clock with a grandfather’s tone
He told me, and said he was waiting for it to time out.
I smiled and said, ” I have time, I could wait too.”
150 years old.
A ginger bread house
Of warmth and love
Put together in tenderness
A sweetness of charm
A glowing touch
A sharing of familiarness
The walls are strong
And stuck with glue-
Like snow glistening
The roof and the snow
Are cotton candy sweet.
the walk a chocolate tantalizing.
CMM ©2021
Father Time returns
Another year older
His beard whiter
The weather much colder .
CMM © 2021
Eagle and Child Inkling 