Root and Branch

cropped birth certificate

My eyes burn and the clock ticks,

and still, I cannot find the right little baby named, Harriet.

I don’t even know if I have the right mother,

and still, I search for this elusive little girl with one or two “t”s.

And I already have five James,

who could be her father, her brother, or her son.

And when once I have narrowed it down

to the proper Harriet,

the one with the proper number of children,

with just the proper names,

I will work on another branch.

Or is it a root? Heavens, I sound like a gardener!

Next, I’ll be pruning, watering, and fertilizing things.

Watching to see things grow.

Digging up things that have died.

No, no time for that.

I’m off to rescue fair Joanna,

a Coffin born, yet buried a Knight.

Not for lack of trying mind, I was bound and determined

she would be a Lunt,

but no, not our fair Joanna.

And did it in style with eleven children,

almost all of them boys to go into the Navy.

So, what next? Walk through another cemetery?

Check on that date of death?

Or should I switch to something really challenging,

and go looking for lost Uncle Harry

in Florida? Texas? ??

Cultivated Carefully by Hand

What does it look like?

I don’t know what to look for!

They say I need it. To find it.

They had all kinds of suggestions

about where and how to find one.

But none of them said a word

about what it looked like.

It’s a seed, so I’m assuming

it’s quite small, tiny even.

Maybe curled inside a shell

of curved black parentheses?

Will I find a packet of them at the garden store?

All neatly labeled with planting instructions?

Or do they have to be collected in the wild,

cultivated carefully by hand?

I’ve been looking ever so long

for my seed of a poem.

jee1.2018

Prompt: Shock

I’ve found just that right position.

The covers are up just so.

My pillow is at the perfect angle.

And I close my eyes and allow my mind to drift…

 

I let my breathing slow.

I feel my heart do so, too.

I let go of that last bit of tension.

My mind has stopped processing at warp speed…

 

My focus seems fuzzy.

Darkness is descending nicely.

And then there is the shock

Of nine pounds of black fur and purr pouncing…

 

I jolt and stiffen for a moment.

She circles once kneading my feet.

Into a black fur ball of warmth.

Once again darkness descends nicely on me…

jee1.2018

almost

almost

just not quite, but almost-

always falling short,

not quite measuring up,

almost

not quite sweet enough,

but almost

not quite tall enough,

but almost

not quite smart enough,

but almost

not quite good enough,

is not good enough at all-

always falling short

never being chosen

never being a part of

of almost grabbing that golden ring

that’s almost within reach

reaching for something that’s almost

within your grasp, almost

within your mind, almost

within your soul, almost

more than you can dream,

almost

more

than

you can hope.

jee12.2017