Contentment | pictured words

A STROLL

Photo of the Maumee autumn sky by Keith R. Good

A Stroll

My favorite time of year.
The cool air and nearly setting sun
beg my attention.
It feels good to need a hoodie and jeans.
The sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet
makes me smile.

In the distance,
drum cadence announces that tonight
we have a home high school football game.
This sound has been part of my life
since childhood.
The sound of my dad’s heartbeat, it seems.
Nostalgia of the best kind, though through misted eyes.

The deep blue sky I refer to as autumn blue
is interspersed with puffy white and charcoal.
This combination delights me.

I spot an elderly gentleman in a neighbor’s yard.
Perhaps he is related to my neighbor, but
I don’t recognize him

until I do.
He waves. I wave back, pretending
I knew him all along. Pretending
I didn’t notice the new elderly gait.
The hunch.

My attention turns to the shadow
accompanying me as I stroll.
And I again pretend not to notice
the new elderly gait.
The hunch.

The earth’s tilt this time of year makes
the sunlight strike at a lower angle.
My eyes gaze
at the elongated tree branch shadows

before lifting to the sky in time
to catch deep purple and orange
fade to pink and lavender.
I feel my eyes smiling
my heart calming
and the call to return home.

As I approach the house,
Mom and Dad’s antique
Tiffany-style lamp
brightens the window
and casts a glow
on the blooming hydrangea tree
we call Patricia, after my mom.
Contentment washes over me.

February 2, 2025

Call Me Home

Call Me Home

She’s lived with me twenty-four years now.
She loves me.
She appreciates how cheerful I am,
no matter what is happening in her life.
Even those who visit us feel my sunny spirit.
No matter her day,
I know how to make her relax.

Her gait has slowed
more than she likely realizes.
I hear and feel her shuffle
across my hardwood floors.
Sometimes she seems to catch herself, and
picks up her feet a while.
The shuffle returns.
It always returns.

More and more, I hear

pauses

as she searchers for a lost word.
She often discovers the first letter,
but can’t retrieve the remainder.
Then sometimes I’ll hear, “All gone.”
Just like her mother used to say.

My post stands at the bottom
of the steps leading to the basement.
It bears my weight,
and the weight of her worry.
Might she or someone she loves
fall and hit their head on my post?
What are the chances of survival?

I hear her and her husband
as they contemplate their future with me.
Perhaps make my guest bedroom
a half-bath and laundry —
eliminate the need for stairs.
But it’s a part of me she admires
just as I am.

She’s lived with me twenty-four years now,
and hopes for twenty-four more.
Maybe her husband and I can make that happen.
I know he’d be on board with it.
She and I are a good team,
making him more cheerful and relaxed, too.

© Marie Elena Good, 2025

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April 7, 2024

MIDWEST

Photo by Keith R. Good

You may not have guessed, but I can attest that the Midwest is blessed. And might I suggest your quest be to test if I jest in what I’ve expressed, lest your life be suppressed and you end up depressed for your lack of Midwest nest. I’m from the Midwest, and sincerely request that you come be my guest.

And yes, I’m obsessed.

© Marie Elena Good, 2024

January 20, 2019

MAJORLY SIMPLE

Photo by Keith R. Good

I discovered the simple life I lead
does not lend itself to major discoveries.

Or so I thought.

Then I discovered something major
in leading a simple life:

Contentment.

Not as in settling. As in
being settled.
No big dreams, met or unmet.

Then I discovered contentment
does not breed motivation.

Or so I thought.

But lo and behold,
contentment inspires thankfulness.
Then thankfulness – praise,
and praise – a relationship with my God,
and relationship with my God – contentment,
and contentment – thankfulness …

And I am content
with this

simple,

major,

inspiring discovery.

4 Comments

August 12, 2018

As I Near My Autumn Days

bench-560435_1280

As I near my autumn days,
I think of all I have not experienced.

No trips abroad.
No vacation home.
No award-winning book.
No fame.
No second-glance beauty.

I think of all I have not experienced.
Yet, let the autumn leaves summon,

For I am content to sit side-by-side,
In dappled sunlight or soaking rain.

14 Comments

June 13, 2016

TWIST HER

Photo credit: thedancingimage.blogspot

What changes would no twister bring?
Everything.

The wicked witch? I guarantee
Would still be

Ruby slipper’d, with stockings striped
Black and white.

Her Aunt Em’s home would not take flight
No straw psyche; no tin goodwill
Contentment would elude her still
And everything would still be black and white.

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pictured words

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September 13, 2026