It’s the small things that keep a person alive. Take my grandmother, Mama Hattie. She made it to ninety-five. She was born in a wagon-and-mule era and died the day an astronaut stepped from the space shuttle to test heating devices in the toe caps of his boots.
Her obituary said she was somebody’s wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, sister, and aunt. But she was so much more.
Category: Poetry
Lulled by a Late Snowfall: “Iowa Dreams”
A few days ago, snow dusted the southern landscape. Winter’s last blast showed up in a flurry of images on social media. Memory took me back to my time in Iowa. Yards seemed snowbound from November to March. I once stepped outside for a midnight sojourn in a still garden—and walked away with a poem.
Hope Peeps Eternal Thanks to the Persistent Crocus
“Where flowers bloom so does hope.” This quote by Lady Bird Johnson, who championed environmental conservation and wildflower beautification, always stuck with me. Crocuses pushing up from the snow (or bare ground) promises renewal. The spring equinox is almost upon us. The poem “Fauve Crocuses” marks the coming season.
After a Long Winter, Finding the Good: “Dwarf Iris Blessing”
I remember a garden in North Carolina where a field of dwarf irises announced the turn of the season. Low to the ground, they bear a humble sovereignty—worthy of regard, as are all living things. This memory inspired the poem “Dwarf Iris Blessing.”
The Game of Naming a Cat (with Thanks to T.S. Eliot)
T.S. Eliot’s whimsical poem, “The Naming of Cats,” inspired this post about my bright-eyed black cat, Ellie.