I was gifted these 3 beautiful strawberries this week.  I put them in a little bowl and looked at them for some time...they smelled soooo good and were so pretty.  I started thinking about the William Carlos Williams poem, the one about the plums in which he apologizes for something that he really doesn't regret doing.  I came up with this poem...

 

 

 

The Strawberry Poem - In Homage to William Carlos Williams

I told you
I would cut the strawberries
  mingle them with yogurt
  but they were
  too red
       and
  juice-burdened
So I bit into them
 whole.

Forgive me.
I couldn't help myself.
 they were as sweet
   as candy
  and just as
    wonderful.


The original poem, if you don't know it, went like this:

This is Just to Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

There is a wonderful little book titled "Rose, where did you get that red?" in which the author, Kenneth Koch, took a well-known poem and read it to children and asked them to write something in the same style.  This is my favorite, after he read them "This is Just to Say":

This is just to say
I have taken the eggs
Of the bird's nest
But I didn't have
any sense that the
Mother bird is looking
For its children and
worried.  I am sorry
Mother bird and I shall
return them when they
Hatch.  I just couldn't see
Them out there in the
Cold Weather.

~Hector Figueroa

I am going to keep this little book with me for awhile and do some poetry exercises of my own.  I've been missing poetry lately and it's sort of like dipping a toe into the water after a long winter inside.  The older I get, the more I want to gather the things that I love around me.  Poetry is one of those things I put away for awhile but it's time to bring it out into the light again.  Bear with me.

Paying it Forward

I was getting home earlier than usual last night.  I was looking forward to it.  A light but steady snow was falling and the wind was picking up again.  I was a mile from home on the street where I live.

I looked to the right up ahead and saw a car had slid into the deep snow of the ditch.  No hazards, no lights at all, and I assumed it had happened earlier in the day and the car had been abandoned but as I got closer the driver's door opened and a young woman stepped into knee deep snow and flagged me down.

I'd been tailgated since turning onto this street and was frustrated with the person behind me and ready to be home, pouring a glass of wine.  But, I signaled to turn and pulled into the parking lot of the nearby park and got out to head back to the stranded young woman to see if she was ok.  Surprisingly, the tailgater too had pulled over...a man about my age.  He was heading back to the stranger as well.

She wasn't hurt, just stuck beyond a push out of the ditch and needed a tow.  I knew the man was able and willing to help her make necessary calls but I could see she was nervous and shaky and rather than leave them I stayed so she'd not feel alone with a man she didn't know.  We called friends about tows and when something was set up I could see the man wanted to be on his way.  I told him to go, that I didn't live far, and I'd make sure she was taken care of.  I felt guilty for mentally cursing the man for tailgating when he really was a decent person to stay for 10 minutes in the snow to help her.

I was thinking about leaving her to wait for the tow truck when a car pulled over and 2 young men got out.   They came and asked if we needed help.  I explained the situation and then a pick-up pulled up and said he had a tow rope he could pull her out of the ditch.  Still not wanting to leave her alone with 3 men she didn't know (and a bit surprised I was more concerned with her safety really than my own...although I didn't feel threatened nor did these guys LOOK threatening) I went to wait in my car where it was warm.  After 10 minutes, and failure at getting the car out of the ditch, the 2 vehicles left and I got out of my warm car and walked back to the woman who was sitting in her own vehicle now without benefit of it running to keep warm. 

It was a 30 minute wait for the tow truck and I told the young woman to get her things and we'd sit in my car and wait.  She was very surprised that I would offer this but I thought how I would feel if it were me, alone, and no family to call to come to my rescue.  Her hands were so shaky, I suppose a combination of the cold and nerves and just the unexpected event of her car slipping off the road as she pulled over a little too far.  She has an appointment today to look at the apartment next to the park and wanted to make sure she knew how to get there and went to look for it ahead of time.  She had slowed down and was pulling over when the front wheel went off the road into the ditch that you couldn't see as it was filled level to the road with snow. 

I told her my name and she said her name was Lucy.  She said she couldn't believe that I would stop and help her like this and wait with her until the tow truck came.  She said "You are an angel."  I thought back to that morning when I had said those exact words to someone who has offered ME help at a time when I need it and I guess it was a step in paying it forward to someone who at this moment needed a little help.  We talked a bit as strangers do and she checked her phone which was so old and broken that the power had gone off and she fumbled with the back to take the battery out to pop back in to get it to go.  She said sometimes that helped and yes, after I took the phone from her to get the back of it off since her hands were too shaky that old phone went on for her.

We watched as a police car drove by us, somehow not stopping at the sight of a car, hood deep in the ditch and my car curiously running, lights on, in the entry to a public park.  I briefly had wished he had seen the car so that he would come take over and I could go home to my warm house a mile away.  Then I thought...I can do this much for someone who needs company and I told Lucy the tow truck should be there any minute.

And yes, after 40 minutes the tow truck pulled up and she breathed a sigh and I made sure she had her phone and her keys and she opened the passenger door and said again, "You ARE an angel.  God bless you!  I wish I could do something to repay you."  I told her all she has to do is help someone else when they need it.  Do something nice for someone who isn't expecting it.  Lucy said she would...and I think she will.

It is the time of year when a little voice inside my head reminds me that this is the time of year that my mom passed away and I count back...one, two, and now three years ago.  You think of the time in the hospital, you think of the moment she was first gone from you, you think of the days leading up to the funeral and then the days when you realize all the things that left your life with her. 

 

I wrote this poem last year and pulled it back out this year.  It still applies:

 

Two Years Today

I could not call you
when the cat ran away
and I needed to hear you say
"Don't worry, she'll come home."

I could not call you
over the busy holidays
so I could hear you tell me
... "Don't worry, you'll be ready."

I could not call you
when life got a little rough
and I needed to be told
"Don't worry, it will get better."

I could not call you
any of the hundreds of times that I wanted to
Just to let you know-
it was a good day
the vet appointment went well
we are home from our trip
the snow is finally here.

I could not call you
but don't worry Mom,
I tell you all these things anyway
and I know that you hear me.

 

Because my mom died closely to my birthday I tend to link it together.  The first birthday card from my dad without "Mom" on it.  The trip my husband and I were taking that I knew I had to go on but had to struggle to enjoy.  And this year, on the verge of turning 50, I want to ask my mom how she herself felt turning 50.  But I can't ask her of course.  And I am dealing with that.