SIGNIFIC’ANT
Image courtesy of Prawny at Pixabay
At the top of the slide, she screams.
(As in chillingly nightmarish dreams.)
And it’s all justified:
There’s an ant on the slide,
So she’s coming apart at the seams.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
pictured words
a simple pairing of pictures and poetry
May 17, 2020
May 10, 2020
DEAR MOM,
DEAR MOM,
I wonder if you smiled after tucking me in at night, as I yelled, “I love you and I like you,” until I heard you reach the bottom of the stairs.
When I was in high school, you and I would often walk Naples’ beach. I told you how much I enjoyed our beach walks. You told me I would get a boyfriend, and would no longer choose to walk the beach with you. I got that boyfriend, and spent a great deal of my waking hours with him.
I wonder if you smiled each time I asked you to walk the beach with me.
Even through my teen years, you made sure you were home when I got home from school. You didn’t want me coming home to an empty house. You stopped whatever you were doing, and took time to talk. Even then, I understood the blessing of that.
I wonder if you smiled whenever you remembered me telling you I appreciated coming home to you.
I believe early Alzheimer’s began to separate you from yourself. I think you recognized that, and feared eventual separation from all of us. Perhaps that’s why you began saying, “I love you. You know that.” You wanted to make sure your love for us was so deeply rooted that there was little risk of it getting lost somewhere in a possible future of unknowingness. You know that. That little phrase attached to I love you was part of who you were. Yes, we knew that. You were kind, and good. You loved well.
I wonder if you smiled somewhere inside when I whispered, “I love you and I like you,” in those final days when you were growing less responsive.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
May 8, 2020
UNTITLED COVID Senryu
The Maumee Indoor
“Closed until further notice.”
A sign of the times.
(c) Marie Elena Good, 2020
#seventeenintwenty
I did not take this photo, and do not know who did. I had to run to the post office today, and saw the sign on our beloved “Maumee Indoor,” on my way. Truly a sign of the times.
May 3, 2020
AWAITING WATERSHEDS
Photo by Keith R. Good
Every crisis in my life
has left expected tinges
I wish were erasable,
but also unforeseen traces
of the embraceable.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 30, 2020
FROM HIM, THROUGH HIM, TO HIM (Sonnet to my God)
Photo by Daniel Reche, courtesy of Pixabay
Oh, stillness deep within me, never wane
when chaos saturates the world without.
I know the very God who sees and reigns –
whose still, small voice speaks peace, and quiets doubt.
He gave mankind a gnawing in our soul
that won’t be satisfied without His will.
And only He can quench that thirsty hole;
and only through His food, we get our fill.
At times, my praise rings sonorous and strong,
and springs from nourished soul that feeds on Him.
At times my praise, just weak and weary song,
seeps sluggishly from apathy within.
Oh, Father, fill me up when I am drained,
and may my praise be endless; unrestrained.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 26, 2020
PANDEMIC
Imprint in Concrete photo by Keith R. Good
We’re navigating
necessary conversions
to our way of life.
Maybe we’ve traded
trite for substance. And maybe
we can keep the change.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 25, 2020
UNTITLED SENRYU
Image from demilked.com
Can we see from space
that a slower, simpler pace
is earth’s saving grace?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
April 24, 2020
NATURE OF THE BEAST
Photo of “The Bean,” by Poppa
When your leader suggests disinfectant,
ingestible or an injectant,
should you chuckle or cry
or heave a big sigh
and wonder what you were expectin’?
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
Okay so part of me feels guilty about this one, but we gotta laugh, right?!
April 23, 2020
SOCIALLY REWIRED IN NO TIME FLAT
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
I’m all for the masks and hand-washing,
Keeping 6 feet away and not touching,
But for cryin’ out loud
I just gasped at the crowd
On the old T.V. show that I’m watching!
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
True story, y’all! LOL!
April 21, 2020
MASK MAKER, MASK MAKER
Photo courtesy of Pixabay’s Pasja1000
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Make me a mask.
Ward off my cough.
That’s all I ask.
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Nothing too posh.
Just make me a modest mask.
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Put folks at ease
as they pass by,
and I must sneeze.
Your mission, see,
is to render for me
a smidgeon of PPE.
Then drop it
off over yonder.
Leave quickly,
and leave nothing else, please,
for me. Well, I wouldn’t holler
if TP’s included (I’m ill at ease).
Mask Maker, Mask Maker,
Thanks for the mask!
My husband’s at peace,
no longer repeats
day after day, “Sharing isn’t condoned,”
now that I have one
of my own.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
pictured words 