Facebook status poetry

October 28

Hint: first close the drawer
Then open the oven door
To not burn your arm.

November 5

first snow falls pretty
on grass, on roofs, on all things
except the road. Good.

November 6

inches of snow out
no, too soon after sickness
disappointed girl

November 28

impromptu Christmas
medley on the dulcimer
so Advent begins

November 29

French toast this morning
errands and exercise next
then tree assembly

Marty: loving the haiku
i should not be reading now
but it beats laundry

Marcy: Do you beat laundry
with a stick or a paddle?
oh wait, nevermind.

Marty: machine washed the clothes
the air quietly dried it
and now it’s bedtime

Marcy: Who folded the clothes?
Did someone put them away?
Mine wait, all forlorn.

Marty: It got put away
it always does, somehow, or
we would wear nothing

Marcy: Piled on back of chair,
seat and arms of chair, and stool;
mine wait to go home.

November 30

Petulant sulks
infuriate a parent
but God still cuddles

I’m child AND parent in this one.

Tick-tock, cuckoo clock
Soon it will be one o’clock
Better get to bed

December 1

I am offended
by these roots of bitterness
stupid bad carrots

(In which I learn that storing apples near carrots makes the carrots bitter. Keeping the apples in sealed bags has helped.)

Sourdough, you’re lost
inside the fluffy rock bread
I have no regrets

it took just minutes
snow-shovel conversion to
a snow-cookie tray

December 3

Every ornament
would not fit on the tree, so
two stayed in the box

feeling unsettled
after many things today
all little nothings

December 5

balancing cross-legged
exercise ball makes online
somewhat less wasteful

December 8

just rediscovered
some original songs
I forgot I wrote

December 9

Some things we like best
in proper place, unstraying.
Others? Come closer…

Amy is ready
“maybe tomorrow,” she says
to let the cat in

December 11

For a day or two
what a strange situation:
why my right butt hurts?

She who outwhines all
so graciously played today
while I got work done

December 21

Italian anise pizzelles have been made
in bed and on couch the sick spouse has been laid
the stockings are felted and waiting for names
but did I pay my sales tax this year?

January 6

Fine fat flakes falling
soft-sifted from cool fingers
fresh sky-scattered snow

Plymouth snow was dust
no Mishawaka fatness
just stingy thin specks

my child beats me up
each scream, demand, and question
saps my soul and strength

she also charms me
each kiss, hug, song, delight, smile
a light and a lift

February 9

Me on my high horse, and you on your pedestal
Let us look down on each other.

February 28

breathing spinning sausage birthdays
frustration flexibility fuss fling
dance dance dance dance
snoring three asleep

March 9 [Amy has croup]

off and on all night
quietly chair-slumped now
wish *I* were asleep


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