articulated by a
silent, empty tomb
© Marie Elena Good, 2021
In response to Robert Lee Brewer’s 2021 April Poem-a-Day Challenge at Poetic Asides (Day 3: Write a Communication poem).
Until they are brought
together to speak, they’re just
twenty six letters.
© Marie Elena Good, 2020
The song of love
when your eyes go soft.
Questions that beg response
in the furrow of your brow.
in the setting of your jaw.
in your entire countenance.
Lines from Moonstruck
in the sudden glint of your eye
and grin of your lips.
“You look good,”
in the slight lift of one brow.
More clearly than your voice,
I hear your face.
© Marie Elena Good, 2019
She fights to connect.
Even her thoughts are wordless,
she says. And I nod
as if I can grasp
telepathically , and
put music to it –
in tune with fluent fretting –
of elusive words
she only needs for we who
don’t speak her spirit.
© Marie Elena Good
Oh the feasts that we would eat –
Grandma’s stuffing can’t be beat!
Turkey carved and on display,
Guesses on “what does it weigh?”
Yams and hams and pumpkin pies,
And (to figures’ great demise}
Aunt Peg’s “Goop,” and Mom’s cheesecake.
Hopeful leftovers to take!
TV playing football games,
Watched by mostly men named James.
Conversations, hugs, and laughs.
© Marie Elena Good, 2018
P.S. Once-upon-a-time, there were so many men/boys named James in our family, it became a running joke. Grandpa, 2 uncles, Dad, and two cousins (one nicknamed Punk)! 😀
“Hearing is Not the Same as Listening” ~ Sarah Elizabeth (my young, wise, single-mom cousin)
Grunts, yelps, shrieks,
laughs, and cries
are Kenzie’s only tools of communication.
But this morning was different.
This morning, as Sarah readied the children for school,
the pattern of Kenzies “noise” sounded suddenly familiar.
All preparations halted, as Sarah began to sing
lines from a Veggie Tales movie.
Kenzie made eye contact.
Then Sarah and Kenzie began alternating lines.
No one has heard Kenzie utter a word in years.
Yet all this time she has been singing, unnoticed.
And now Sarah will sing with Kenzie
a hundred times in an hour
if that’s what she wants.
In the cacophony of life,
and even dissonance.
For sometimes a solo
hungers for harmony.
© Marie Elena Good, 2017