Photo by David Corliss
Wind gusts at fifty
wreaked havoc on her for hours.
So she said, “Enough,”
and she up and left,
carrying all she calls hers
to Buffalo’s banks.
Her now-vacated
western shore gets foot traffic,
sans ruby slippers.
© Marie Elena Good, 2025
RED (sonnet for a cabin in the woods)
We’re back in Red, a cabin we once knew.
She was the first to which we came for rest.
But then we switched to one we know as Blue.
Both feel like home, and neither one is “best.”
Nostalgia here in Red, intense and deep,
returns us to our long-forgotten years
of risky hikes (both treacherous and steep).
Our younger selves don’t hear our future fears.
Inherent wisdom fills her ancient beams.
They’ve centuries of stories, as has she.
Her cozy manner begs us (so it seems):
Speak quiet love, relax, and be carefree.
Surrounded by strong hardwood and soft fir,
Red’s presence stirs up thoughts of who we were.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
LET’S BE OPEN
Well, while our government remains shut down
and citizens debate who is at fault
and billionaires don’t lose one grain of ground,
*SNAP benefits are coming to a halt.
Our churches, mosques, and temples work to fill
the need our government’s left in its wake.
We’ll all step up to compensate — but still,
where will we find resources it will take?
We’ll find it in abundance we consume.
We’ll find the here and there that we can spare.
We’ll set our table, and we’ll make more room.
And even those themselves in need will share.
While left and right debate who is at fault,
the poor among us feel the full assault.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
*Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program
“For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home.” ~ Jesus of Nazareth
The Sound of English as a Second Language
They come from situations we’ve only read about, and chosen to distance ourselves from. They’ve faced profound persecution, violence, starvation, and unfathomable humanitarian crises. They seek the simple: Clean water, food, education, a roof, a measure of safety, a measure of acceptance, a measure of stability. They listen. They strain. They try to understand us. They study to learn our language, so they might be able to communicate their needs. Desires. Gratitude. Humor. Life.
Some hear broken English.
I hear the flawless sound
of resilience.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
Perrysburg Mercy Health
Thursday July 29, 2025
Keith experienced
classic heart attack symptoms.
Said, “Call 911.”
Very unlike Keith,
and so he didn’t have to
tell me more than once.
A look and some tests
showed no sign of heart attack.
Phew! But what happened?
July 31, 2025
Back in the E.R.
for STAT echo with contrast.
This, our new St. Luke’s?
Medical Test Findings:
He is well nourished.
His reproductive organs?
* Unremarkable.
August 2, 2025
Gallbadder all along?
Back in the E.R.
More tests have resulted in
admission. Thankful.
August 3, 2025
6:46 a.m.
Spoke with Keith’s nighttime
nurse. He slept well. Still no word
on surgery time.
Afternoon
No surgery yet.
First will come more heart tests, then
gallbladder comes out.
August 4, 2025
9:30 a.m.
Nuclear stress test
(a four-hour test) followed by
an echo-something
8:00 p.m.
A 30-minute
gallbladder removal turns
into two hours.
Anterior wall
is the only thing removed.
The remainder is
too attached to the
liver. Apparently they’re
inseparable.
August 5, 2025
11:30 a.m.
After not eating
since 5 p.m. August 3,
Keith is transported
to St. Charle’s to have
surgery 2 in two days –
needs a bile duct stent:
another 30-
minute procedure that took
about two hours. Ugh …
5:00 p.m.
Keith is returned to
his first hospital in far
worse shape than he left.
Suffice it to say,
two surgeries in two days:
zero of ten stars.
After forty-eight
hours of no food or water,
and overheated,
there was ice water
for his throat, behind his neck,
on his head, and chest.
But other than that,
he didn’t want to be touched
not even by me.
He was beyond hot
(take that in every way)
and who could blame him?
August 6, 2025
Now his pancreas
has become enraged. Numbers
have skyrocketed:
Lipase, which should be
between zilch and one sixty
is at three thousand.
Other lab numbers
are also out-of-whack. So,
no discharge today.
Clear liquid diet
is better than nothing, right?
“Nothing” went too long.
August 7, 2025
FINALLY some FOOD!
He had flat, unseasoned eggs
that he loved, loved, loved!
Improving numbers
bring hope again for discharge.
Nope. Safer to stay.
August 8, 2025
Finally discharged!
Though he is still battling pain
and unwell feelings:
He paused at the door
and sighed deeply as he stepped
inside the kitchen,
slowly walked each room,
taking in the sight and scent
and feeling of home –
mentioning details,
like the way the sun glistens
on the wooden floors,
and the beauty of
the hydrangea tree that
graces our window.
We both recognize
how grateful we should be in
the midst of hardship.
We have access to
a clean, modern hospital
filled with good people
who take pride in what
they do – from the surgeons, to
the NPs, RNs,
doctors, LPNs,
those who prepare the food, and
those who bring the trays,
the housekeeping staff,
the various technicians,
and those we don’t see.
The warm smiles and waves.
The patience for their patients.
The words of comfort.
None of these details
went unnoticed, and all were
appreciated.
(c) Marie Elena Good 2025
* Keith laughed hysterically over this aspect of his test results report! HA!
This, not really poetic, is an accounting of this event in the lives of my husband and me. I like to write 5/7/5-syllable poems, statements, observations, or feelings that express my day. This is the collection from what began July 29 with classic heart attack symptoms that ended up being a gallbladder attack.
Just for the record: The long, involved surgeries mentioned were through no fault of the surgeons. Keith’s was just a very complicated case.
I may add more to this as the days of recovery continue. This is my way of recording.
Image created by AI
Inspired by “ … and the river spoke in a language without words,” from The Dead of Night, a Measure of Rest after Karaoke by Mike Bayles
A River Sighs in Silence
Once the sky emptied itself,
moved on to another town,
and the swollen river below it
stopped chugging trees
and gorging children,
and the once-bawling waters waned,
the river’s shame released a sigh
too soft
too late for children’s ears
to hear.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
For the children of Camp Mystic, and all whose lives have changed from the recent flash floods.
Homophones
(same sound, different spelling)
ATE and EIGHT
I ate eight pies
and ate eight French fries.
My tummy says that wasn’t wise.
BARE and BEAR
Does a polar bear
have big bare feet?
They’re covered in hair,
so they’re not bare,
but here’s what’s neat:
They’re big bear feet!
FOR and FOUR
Today’s lunch trade
(a huge upgrade!)
was all my prunes
for four balloons!
DEAR and DEER
My dear,
Though deer can be dear,
let me tell you this, dear:
the deer are still wild, dear child.
They’re beguiling, it’s true,
but I’m here to tell you,
don’t go touching a deer in the wild.
HEAR and HERE
An h on my ear (right here –>___ear) makes it hear.
FLOUR and FLOWER
flour and water
and salt and yeast
all mixed up well
pans lightly greased
and as bread bakes
some flowers are placed
on our table in a vase
our bread is ready
we pour some tea:
a pretty feast for you and me!
HOUR and OUR
We baked our bread with flour,
and prettied our table with flowers,
but we barely had time to chat
‘cause we ate in no time flat,
but our cleanup took more than an hour!
KNOW AND NO
I know you know no means no.
MEAT and MEET
Let’s meet at the meat market at ten.
See you then!
PAIR, PARE, and PEAR
I have two pears (a pair of pears)
that I need to trim (called pare).
RIGHT and WRITE
I need to learn to write right,
right?
THEIR, THERE, and THEY’RE
Their house is there, and they’re there in their house.
TO, TOO and TWO
Person One, to Two and Three: I want to go. Who wants to go, too?
Person Two: I want to go, too!
Person Three: I don’t want to go too much.
Person One to Person Two: Then I guess it’s just us two!
ONE and WON
Two played cards, but just one won.
Which one won?
The winner won!
WEAR and WHERE
We’re going somewhere and we’ll not go there bare,
so we’ll choose what to wear and we’ll wear it!
(c) Marie Elena Good 2025
OUR LADY OF MT. CARMEL ANNUAL CHURCH FESTIVAL
I’m scorching hot. My clothes cling to me in the smothering humidity. Add to that the people-laden, sticky black tar church parking lot without a shade tree in sight. Ugh.
Yet, the air is saturated with inviting aromas: potent garlic; sweet onion; roasted peppers; spicy Italian sausage; yeast bread rolls; sweet dough twists with cinnamon sugar; cotton candy … and cheese puffs. My cousin Tom and I make a beeline for the deep-fried sweet dough filled with ooey gooey cheese. Yummmmm!
We race toward the Ferris wheel, dodging through the crammed masses and attractions. My nostrils are suddenly assaulted with the fishy stench of smelt. Eew. This booth boasts a line of cuffed pants; brimmed hats; men’s black shoes; and long-sleeved shirts soaked with sweat, each revealing the standard white muscle T beneath. These older Italian men puff cigars (again, eew!) and pass the time in line playing the loud, fast-paced game of Morra.
“Quatro!” (four!)
“Sette!” (seven!)
“Otto di fuoco!” (eights on fire!)
Roars of laughter rise with the cigar smoke above the cacophony of festival sounds.
From a game booth, a hoarse female voice hails, “Roll down, roll down! Six tries for a dollar!”
Various carnival rides summon as well: Creeeek … screeeeeech … tic, tic … whoooosh!
A button accordion pumps out a Polka, accompanied by the “oom pah” of a tuba. We pause to watch smiling couples bob as they step, quick-step, step, hold their way around a make-shift dance floor.
We spot Nonna at the Bingo Tent with an array of cards spread before her, fervently trying to win an “Infant of Prague.” This uniquely Catholic carnival prize is a plaster figure of the jewel-crowned infant Jesus, clothed magnificently in a robe of rich red, royal blue, or gold. Game booths and tents flaunt eye-catching displays of the satiny fabrics, glistening jewels, and outstretched arms of the holy infant. I feel the contrast of Nonna’s satiny cheeks and stiffly sprayed hair as she pulls us close, and presses a quarter into each of our palms.
Continuing to the Ferris wheel, a small stand topped with a six-foot twirling glass of yellow lemonade beckons. Soon soothing icy lemon slush slides down the back of my throat.
I nurse my treat while in line for our ride. Cold sweat drips off the cup into my sandals, and squishes between my toes. A silvery car grinds its way to the bottom of the giant spoked wheel. We hop on, my bare legs sticking to the hot metal seat. Tom slams the safety bar shut, and we rock precariously forward and back.
The car jerks and jolts as we inch up a notch so the one below us can load, and so on –
one
car
at
a
time.
Stuck at the peak, we get a birds-eye view. The setting sun creates peach, mauve, and midnight blue hues. Glistening stringed lights of sapphire, emerald, ruby, and gold crisscross the grounds. Suddenly, my hair flies up and my stomach drops, then settles back in as it grows accustomed to the whirling sensation. For just a moment, I close my eyes and relish the breeze.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2011
One Man’s Play is His Neighbor’s Labor
(a poem of silly American English spellings)
He would have / should have chopped some wood
and would have, if he only could.
A livelihood of chopping wood would
likely be misunderstood
by those who live in his neighborhood
whose labor for their livelihood
feels more like floating on driftwood.
He noted that their income’s good,
not having fought for what they’ve got
(a yacht named “We Just Tied the Knot”)
which left him fraught with just one thought
atop his head like a 60-watt:
That someone surely chopped the wood
that made his neighbor’s fancy yacht,
which now he knew was headed straight
for the passage known as Taiwan Strait.
And as they cruised, his thoughts defused,
and then he snoozed, quite unamused.
And then he bought a nice hot brat,
and gave it not another thought.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
ood and ould make the same vowel sound: would, wood, could, should, good, livelihood, driftwood, neighborhood, understood
a, ai, ay, ait, aight, ey, and eigh make the same vowel sound: play, straight, Strait, labor, they, neighbor
o, a, augh, ough, ach, ot, and att make the same vowel sound: chopped, on, got, not, knot, hot, yacht, fraught, bought, thought, atop, watt, brat
live and live make a different vowel sound in these words: live, and livelihood
ote and oat make the same vowel sound: note, float
not and knot sound the same
u, ui, ew, and oo make the same vowel sound: knew, cruise, defuse, snooze, amuse
defuse, snooze, cruise, and amuse also all make the z sound
The e at the end of like gives the i its long sound, but not the i in live, unless it is the verb live (I need food to live) and not the adjective live (We are going live in 10 minutes)
The ai in Strait makes the long a sound, but the ai in Taiwan makes the long i sound. (In all fairness, Taiwan is not an American English word. wink wink.)
PHEW!
And This is Love
No need for Hallmark-
gold-sealed card with fancy words
that someone else wrote.
I’ll take morning jokes
and/or hand-drawn hearts on a
yellow Post-it Note.
© Marie Elena Good 2025
pictured words 