Fading Mom by Janice D. Green When Mom was young She cared for me She wiped my tears And fixed my knee And as I grew She was my friend She met my needs And lent her hand. But then I moved So far away And failed to call And share my day. I dreamed of things That we might share Another day When I got there. But years have passed, Shared moments few, With miles between Where loneliness grew. She’s ninety-three Can barely hear; I hold the phone And shed a tear. Before her years Slip away Enjoy your mom Day by day.
I wish I knew the stories that my grandparents might have told. I only had the privilege of knowing one of my grandparents, and I didn’t get to spend much time with her. I lived on the farm that was handed down through the generations in my family from the time of the Northwest Territory land grants until my father sold it in the 60s. I can only imagine the stories no one remembers today. I began writing family memories a
It’s been many years ago, but I still smile when I recall some of our first shopping trips with my baby. One early purchase was a yellow Baby Beans doll. We held it up to her and she reached out and said “baby.” Even before she could talk it was obvious that she had caught on that you could go to a store and get things. One day we were walking through a store and she noticed a huge stuffed bear. When
Ode to a Great Horned Owl Eyes wide open Staring down You watch my every move Noble stance Moves so slight I dared to talk to you What to say To Mr. Owl Perched up in the tree? “Whooo Whooo Who are You? What d’you think of me?” He stretched up Wings spread wide He flew straight my way Talons huge I ducked fast Whew! He flew away. Never mess With Mr. Owl Just watch him quietly One majestic Awesome bird So full of dignity. © 2011 by Janice D. Green
Catfishing with Mom Getting dark Moon is full Rods and reels are ready Nightcrawlers Insect spray Snacks and sodas plenty Two lawn chairs Coleman light Loaded on the pier Disconnect Shove on out Drop the anchor here Forget the time Let out your line Enjoy cicada’s din. Catfish bite Line slides slow Then jerk and reel him in. If they bite Or if they don’t It doesn’t really matter Gentle rocking Making ripples Conversation starter Remembering a special time long ago and wishing we had done it more often. The lake was in the back yard and I was in college. I moved to another state