Coffeeshop Writer's Group - Gardening - New poems: Quickly Spring Cometh - Signals

The night before, I was up until 4 am submitting my work to various lit mags. Next morning I learned that "A Creature of Habit," rejected by 5 or 6 lit mags was happily taken by Ray's Road Review.

Chris Duncan wrote me a personal note. 

Also worked on a new short story Uncle Ken, which I presented at the Writer's Group. I think it's a great concept but I've gotta execute it better.

I'm combining (1) ECT treatments from a friend of mine and (2) A neighbor's missionary work in Uganda.

Martha wrote a beautiful piece called The Tea Set. She carries out the tradition of serving tea from a beautiful tea pot to family and friends.

On FB, Marf had posted a particularly lovely tea pot, saying she needed to get rid of it, as she had bought another one.

I commented on how b'ful it was but that I didn't want it.

Martha thought otherwise and here it is residing on my window sill. See my brother David's ceramic bird house?

Marf signed her piece Martha MacDonald Hunter. Her grandmother hailed from Glasgow, where they sipped tea under a portrait of the young queen, Elizabeth Windsor.

Carly Brown and husband Charlie finished moving into Gloria Dei where they are night managers, two weeks on, and two weeks off, as they trade with a previous couple who live there.

She couldn't be happier! Isn't it great to work for good people?

Her nonfiction piece was in the back of her mind for several weeks and she finally had time to put it on paper.

Reflections on Love was written mostly in dialogue and concerned a woman arguing with her husband - they cursed unmercifully at each other - Carly herself never curses - and the main character finally up and leaves.

Carly has no idea how the story will end. We find the main character at the lush Manhattan home of her best friend. Allan and I particularly liked her description of a large hallway.

ALLAN read a new piece of flash fiction "The Mortician's Assistant" which featured his usual use of great words and names. There's always an O. Henry twist at the end. Last two lines

Morris was aghast.
Saunders was a ghoul.

I mentioned that when I grew up in Cleveland, we had GHOULARDI




DONNA wrote a lovely poem about her new home. She and Denny now live in the same apartment complex, across from Sam's Italian Deli, where Carly use to live.

Sounds like a lovely new home, with a bubbling creek in the back yard.

You can't really see Donna's gunmetal gray nails, which glow in the dark.

"You'll save on electricity," I said.

I mentioned a new article in the Times about the hazards of nail polish, not to mention the way manicurists in Manhattan are taken advantage of by the salon owners. Many of them suffer irreversible health damages from inhaling the fumes.

Read story here. 

After I read the story, I removed my very chipped pink polish.

Maybe I'll just use




LINDA BARRETT brought in The First Woman on Mars. She's having a heck of a time with it. I know what it's like to abandon something. She shouldn't abandon it, but rethink it. I suggested she write it in the third person instead of first.

*

After the Writers' Group, went over to Mom's. We sat down at the kitchen table and had a very nice conversation. I'd brought her some type of pretzel chocolate candy and Ellen a vanilla sugar-filled latte.

Mom had gotten her hair cut at the Cuttery. It looked great. Of course she didn't like it.

*

I spent about 12 hours gardening.  When I came home from Mom's, I saw that little Patrick and little Tucker had mowed the lawn. They did a great job for $30, plus $5 tip.

 Orange poppy, behind which I planted Red Poppy Seeds, yellow and pink Snapdragons, Italian Heather found at the Giant, as well as all the seeds.

Plants are from Meadowbrook Farm. Also planted two Dahlia bulbs.

Dwarf Fig should produce figs this year.

QUICKLY SPRING COMETH

Quickly spring cometh

my hands deep in the

planting soil, I greet

Master Worm, whose

moist confident body

slithers through his

dark realm

Caw! cries the bluejay

feathers a blur

as he sips the

sunlit water of

his bird bath

in my front yard 

Doctors' orders 

leave my hands

ensconced in 

blue Nitrile gloves

the thin membrane

barely protecting

me from toxins in

the soil that might

kill my new kidney

This quick quiet

spring has me

walking bewildered

down my street

Recalling winter’s

despair, the high

mounds of snow

that buried alive the

greens, now resurrected

Lazarus arise!

 

I am here,

I am alive, as I bounce

down the street

and sing with spring. 

*

 SIGNALS

She’s closing up for

the night

pours me

a tall paper cup

of coffee

tells me

Hot! Don't burn

yourself. 

The coffee smell

infuses the car

as I travel

down easy streets

to make it home

and there to write.

Suddenly flashes

of light take me

by surprise

Red brake lights

in front of me

flash like a

ruby

she warns me of

her stop.

Blink! Blink! Blink!

a high off the ground

car like a tall

toddler tells me

she’s about to turn.

Communication!

All done by lights

Red and yellow

Crayolas

for grown-ups

As I dismount from

my car at home

I watch

more ancient

signals high up

in the heavens.

The barefoot moon

is rising behind

Charlie's dogwood

and I, in my

sandals, pause to

contemplate

this wonderful world

this beautiful

bird-filled lush 

and river-run world

created throughout the

eons without the

beneficence and

malevolence of

that world-famous God.