warm corner (Warmen)

we are in our old house in Gretna
a visit with old friends
and I look through a doorway

a boy four or five
short blond hair
sits in corner enclave
where comforting warm air blows
out of a register on the wall

this is his spot
no flames or burning wood to watch
just white walls and
mum working in kitchen

he has a friend though
he lives here
in this spot always
they play and talk in quiet whispers
telling secrets only they know about
being so grown-up

the whispers fly up through the register
and are lost in the ducts of the house
you can’t go back and hear them
even though parts of the boy still linger
in that enclave

Dizzy

he walks up your sidewalk
silver suit glinting sunlight in the shirtsleeved afternoon

you shake his powerful hand looking through black rims to see eyes dancing

he starts the conversation
letting you respond with your ideas
but he flits from one topic to the next
his body never still
by the time you are inside, you’ve covered

how different colours should mix more
how life is a precious box – get everything in that you can
how new words are needed to say new things
how we should celebrate the uniqueness of every leaf
on every tree

and he keeps going
---------at the speed of light
every word a clear resonant dart in your ear

and you succumb to the quicksilver mood

St. Joseph Wind Farm

they rise up white wings
stately turn in prairie wind
warm winter thoughts rise

family birthday dinner

memories buzz around like flies around a table of food in our backyard
we sit around small table at Maxine’s I look at each one seeing
my version of who they are/were dark sweatered boy/man
tousled toque hair confidently deciding each order smiling
blonde with overwhelming scarf of energy round eyed
girl watching all with poise and pride newly necklaced
wife/mother one year older singing songs of love
in her eyes
sometimes we notice the cloud of flies and
take a swipe but other times we are too
busy inviting more to join
the rest

jigsaw

two heads
mother daughter
bend over
oblivious

pieces litter the table in apparent chaos
edge is complete
creating a frame within which to work
one thousand pressed paper partial pictures
to try to fit together into coherent whole

it’s hard
this fitting together of the chaotic
demanding
patience---------perseverance---------problem solving
but becomes so much easier
with two bright faces
mother and daughter

Janus

snow swirls furiously
in January wind

looking with two sets of eyes
backward and forward
and both yards fill with strata of
flaky
time

what does a year of
tests
-----diagnosis
---------------more tests
--------------------------waiting
-----------------------------------surgeries
sickness
----------diminishment
-------------------------treatment
------------------------------------recovery
----------------------------------------------setbacks
constant worry

mean?

the back garage door bangs open and closed on creaky hinges

I go out through the front door to fix it
shutting it and
move forward on a new layer of snow

portzeltje (new year’s fritters)

oh you pocket of warmth and
promise
packed with raisins
of popping squishiness
covered or dipped in sugary white

come to my waiting mouth
and I will bite
teeth meeting little resistance on the crisp
outer shell
to get to the hopeful doughy center of
a new year