pictured words

a simple pairing of pictures and poetry

Category: Poetic Bloomings

Two Poems for Mother’s Day

The Mother of Alzheimer’s

Who birthed (unearthed)
This unwelcome invasion,
Or gave it the right
To hijack each occasion
Meant to endure and assure her
She’s loved. She belongs.

It ceaselessly wrongs her,
Assassinates her senses;
Condenses her being
To fleeting moments,
Thought amputation,
Self dislocation,
And few kin.

And it will win.

© Marie Elena Good, 2016


Mom’s Passing (2018)

She began speaking
of needing to get ready
for the bus (taxi?)

that would very soon
be arriving to take her.
If she knew where to,

she didn’t tell us.
Such questions were hard for her,
so we wouldn’t ask.

We’d just pack for her,
had she asked us to do so.
For years she couldn’t.

She couldn’t decide
what to take, or what to leave.
Empty her closet.

Sleep in the guest room,
as her bed was filled with clothes
she would take nowhere.

Now she couldn’t leave.
Couldn’t get up from her bed.
She didn’t know that.

She didn’t know that
she was on hospice care now.
She didn’t know that

her last fall would be
what interrupts this disease,
and its progression.

That it would still win,
but wouldn’t finish the race.
So she would win, too.

… and the “slow goodbye”
ended in twenty eighteen,
when she journeyed on.

© Marie Elena Good 2026

What Do I See?

Photo by Isaac Quesada on Pexels.com

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
Two squirrels playing tag
in a big maple tree.

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
A face in a cloud
with a funny goatee.

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
My mom’s picnic table
and pitcher of tea.

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
The wind left a space
where my shoes used to be!

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
I see Bigfoot’s footprints!
(You might disagree.)

I look out my window
and what do I see?
Our bee balm is blooming,
and see? There’s a bee!

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
I see the black cap
of a cute chickadee.

I look out my window,
and what do I see?
I see squirrels, trees, and bees,
and a pitcher of tea.
I see funny cloud shapes,
and a cute chickadee.
I see bee balm and Bigfoot.
(You’ll still disagree.)

(But in all of my views,
I don’t see my new shoes.)

I look out my window,
what more do I see?
I reliably see
a reflection of me.

© Marie Elena Good 2026

Of Haiku and Children’s Stories

Photo by http://www.kaboompics.com on Pexels.com
Of Haiku and Children’s Stories

once upon a time
and five-syllable launches:
openings I trust


© Marie Elena Good 2026

Favorite Color

Photo by Lucas George Wendt on Pexels.com

You know how people sometimes ask what your favorite color is?  It has always been so hard for me to give a firm, convincing response.  The green outdoors is so life-giving that I love to bring it inside.  And when I wear it, it makes my eyes look pretty green.  Soft, watery blue is lovely and restful.  YlnMn blue is the most magnificent color I have ever laid eyes on.  It is even better than royal or cobalt. Lemony yellow is cheerful and bright.  My husband likes it when I wear red, though I don’t own much.  Gray is fantastic for making any imaginable color near it pop.  Being my favorite season and bringing welcome childhood memories, autumn colors warm my heart. But it wasn’t until this weekend that I suddenly realized I do have an absolute favorite.

Spring’s first buds and blooms.
Snowfall.  Fresh sheet of paper.
Purity and peace.


© Marie Elena Good 2026


EASTER COLORS (three 5/7/5 poems)

1.
The Color of Redemption

I can’t bear to think
of His beautiful dark skin
ripped down to muscle.

2.
Lapis Lazuli

More precious than gold,
this deep blue embodies the
Mother of Jesus.

3.
Holy Reflection

Only light as pure
as reflects from God’s own Son
can mirror His love.

© Marie Elena Good 2026

Self-Portrait in Syllables

silver splatters on
dark construction-paper hair
of pulled ribbon curls
with eraser-rubbed
quarter-sized patch of almond
alopecia

now-sparce arches frame
uneven eyes colored with
loosely held crayon
trying to capture
the green for which there is no
Crayola pigment

but a fine black pen
and a steady hand capture
right-eye’s lopsided
cat-pupil-like shape:
a visual reminder
of eye surgery

thinner, aging lips
colored deep red. tempted to
draw outside the lines,
but she won’t bother
because a genuine smile
makes up for the lack

Sfumato technique?
No. Since this is her portrait,
she faces herself.

© Marie Elena Good 2026

(Sfumato is a technique for softening and blending.)

Connecting Neighbor with Neighbour

Photo by Griffin Wooldridge on Pexels.com


Connecting Neighbor with Neighbour

Completed in 1929, the remarkable Ambassador Bridge over the Detroit River is about a one-and-a-half-mile suspension bridge that connects the U.S.A.’s Detroit, Michigan with Canada’s Windsor, Ontario. Being likely the most unobservant person you’ve ever (or maybe never) met, it amazes me that I’ve never found myself unintentionally on the entrance ramp. I’d have approximately 7500 feet to contemplate how to handle my situation upon arrival.  My chances of being prepared, dignified, and self-assured are nearly nada.

“Hi!  Give me a hug!
Finally, we meet! And me,
without my passport.”


© Marie Elena Good 2026

Welcome, then Watch

Welcome, then Watch

Women who are new to our country, culture, and language enter Miss Tatyana’s classroom for their first day of school.  For many, it is their first day of school, ever.  They enter a clean, well-lit, lovely room. They are greeted with warm, smiling eyes, and an offer of tea.  They see words they can’t read, written on a large whiteboard, “I didn’t come here to teach you. I came here to love you.  Love will teach you.”  These words, from ancient Indian scripture, speak the heart of their new teacher.  She translates the words to their own language, and watches as their nerves visibly ease.  They hug, love in return, and begin to learn.

When welcomed inside
and planted in prepared soil,
non-native plants thrive.


© Marie Elena Good 2026

Alysa Liu

Photo by Rene Terp on Pexels.com

Alysa Liu

Proud daughter of a
political refugee,
gold wasn’t her goal.

Those who’d see her worth
only through a gold medal,
wouldn’t see her worth.

© Marie Elena Good 2026

Five Hygge

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Trust sweater weather
for steamy mug of tea
and warm conversation.

Affecting music
even with no lyrics, moves
the coldest of hearts.

Winter Olympics,
please bring earnest empathy
nation-to-nation.

Mittens are better
for keeping fingers warm,
for they get to cuddle.

Each winter, our birds
follow suet meals with a
preheated bird bath.

(c) Marie Elena Good 2026