Memories

It was a little church

brick layered from years

creating a shelter

for children to feel safe.

Singing gospels,

‘jesus is calling’

and ‘amazing grace’,

people stand in faith.

Wooden pews curved

into the backs tired

from laboring fields

bent  by the plow.

Promises coming from

pulpits of well intending

preachers who draw from

biblical stories.

Stories of trial and

triumphs of ancient

believers who strived

and survived.

Promises raining

from a place called

heaven, a place many

were destined to soon go.

“Sweet hour of Prayer”

they listened and sang

holding on the pews

as the children watched.

Yes, they would leave

to go home to their

Sunday dinner, knowing

“In the sweet by-and-by.”

Copyrighted:  2018 CMM

I remember your silver retro tree

sitting on your desk,

the ornaments of blue reflecting

years past of the-other-day.

I smile to remember our verbal

folly of the tacky tree

You would reply, it is the best,

and I would smile, and say ok.

The truth is, it was the best.

Memories of drive-in movies

and sock hops reflected in the light

of the mulit-color turning wheel.

I remember your silver tree,

your jolly laugh of folly and doo-wop.

Jokes of the past being the best of all.

I now remember,  smile, and miss you.

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM

RIP  Prof. Doo-wop (2012)

Her face, was like a road map of all special places,

her eyes the ocean of knowledge and strength.

Yes, her words spilled out of time, joy and sorrow

asking for someone to listen, love and remember; she was here.

Copyrighted:  CMM  2017

3:00 a.m., the whistle blows hauntingly through a thick still night. 

I thought, how it is a reassuring sound from the past to the present,

Makes everything seem normal or at least safe as normal should feel.

The darkness allows you to pretend the sound is being made from anytime.

Time of the little brick house with wasp escaping through the stone fireplace.

Or, an infant crying to be fed and nurtured back to sleep.  

Or, the present time, the darkness allowed my thoughts to travel.

The sound allowed my mind to go on into the memories of any time before.

Sounding one last time, it disappears into nothingness and all is quiet.

Just the darkness. left from minutes past 3:00 a.m. 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM

Before the pain,

there was laughter 

sharing of wits

the morning after 

before the pain 

there were smiles

all night conversations

lingering for a while

before the pain

she felt safe to know

he was  there

they would grow 

before the pain

all was everything

no needs 

before the pain 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM

I enter into today with the celebration of loss and love —

I cherish your bedside as we said good bye and

All I could do is cry

It has been five years and your sweet desperation breathed between two places

Your eyes closed as some said the “Our Father” and others’  dark faces

Posturing, some told lies and some truths; you listened.

Reaching into the depths of the last moments, you closed your eyes

For the last time you pulled from a place we all know only once in time

You called out ” I love you.” The room quieted

copyrighted:  CMM  2016

She remembers the clothesline just off the kitchen window.

Lined against the bushes of lilacs all blooming in the spring.

Straight lines of coiled wire touching brown decaying wood post.

Each week she would see the lady of the house hang lovely colors,

different shapes and sizes of shirts and pants and little girl’s dresses.

Blues would mix with the pinks and reds, but the whites were always

separate from the others so not to allow the dye to run on them. 

Deep in the summer south the hot wind would bend and sway

against the flag of colors left out to dry until right before afternoon sun.

She then would gather them and fold and lay them in a straw basket

bringing them into the house; the smell would be of the out of doors.

copyrighted:  2016 CMM