MEMORY
What I remember most is
the earlier the memory
the more space to store it
MEMORY
What I remember most is
the earlier the memory
the more space to store it
REED BETWEEN THE LIONS
My mother’s will was always
stronger than my won’t
My father’s won’t was always
stronger than my will
Caretaker soft or Cowboy strong
How quick I learned to change my face
to face the faces that I faced
And’
I can still spin that mirror now so you
can see the face you want to see
But neither you nor I will know
which one is me
TASTES OF CHILDHOOD
When I was two or three
and my mother read to me
When Alice fell down the rabbit hole
I fell down the rabbit hole
Tumbling over and over in the air
the memory is still there
Ribbon candy and real candles on the tree
Christmas chocolates made at home
from a factory recipe someone
slipped to someone on a train
Taste buds still budding
tasting with my whole body
Slowly I’ve forgotten how
only love and fear can do it now
SAYINGS FROM OLD RANCH KITCHEN
“Clean off your plate
there are starving people in China”
“Take the last food from the bowls
we’ll have a nice day tomorrow”
I never put it together this way
but the people in China
must have always had a nice day
PRAIRIE BUMPER STICKER
I brake for trains
that don’t run anymore
MOSSBANK II
Valve trombone and trumpet
Ernie and me
poisoning the air with practice
MOSSBANK
Chinese café
big – small – happy
three symbols for me
COURVAL
Small town smaller
reference points gone
inside compass wobbles
SMALL TOWN – GRADE SEVEN
In a town of six or seven hundred
you get a cross section of the country
One classmate’s father’s suicide with shotgun
splattered walls
One boy my age, drowned
in an upturned truck in a muddy ditch
One with leukemia, white as the snow
One redhead, Leslie French, as beautiful and
mysterious as the language
One blonde, Shirley Long, to long for
She’s only interested in grade 9 boys
One bruised heart
Not yet hard enough to be broken
ONE ROOM SCHOOL
There were seven students and eight grades
With the inkwells covered to save the braids
The first day of school
the boys all rushed through the door
to fight for their seats
with their father’s initials carved thirty years before
At recess there were garter snakes, and gophers, and mice
which girls who were being chased, and teachers
who had just opened desk drawers didn’t think
were so nice.
At recess you could get on the big teeter totter
on the North side. If you could get high enough,
long enough, you could get a bobbing glimpse of
one of the big boys, hand outstretched for the
well deserved strap.
In winter the pot bellied stove was set up in the
back center of the room. How warm you were
depended on how close you were to the back. The
teacher didn’t always teach from the front of the
class
There was a big tin shield five feet high around
the stove to keep us from burning ourselves
although it got hot enough itself to do a pretty
good job
Any lapse in supervision added to its décor as
we melted our wax crayons into modern art on
its silver sides
It was always great to hear the lessons
meant for other ears than these
and to sting the older kids in spelling bees
In those days outdoor toilets were cricket
and so was the game we played
with firewood for posts
and baseball bats
for bats.