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Category Archives: Poetry

National Library Workers Day

Today is National Library Workers Day.
Today is a reminder that not everyone
Who works in a library is a librarian,
But the library doesn’t work without
All of them.

To keep a library running, you need people.
People who care about other people;
People who know how to find answers;
People who know how to fix things;
People who know how to clean things;
People who want to help;
People who want to learn and grow;
People who aren’t afraid of change;
People who are courageous in the
Face of people who would sow fear;
People who are good with money;
People who are good with kids;
People who are good with teens;
People who are good with adults;
People who are good with seniors;
People who are artistic;
People who are young and old;
People who are there to build others
Up, not merely themselves;
People who long to tear down
Hatred, not stoke its flames;
People who want to share in their
Community;
People who have seen the struggles
Faced by libraries in the past who can
Guide them into the future;
Skeptics and believers;
Leaders and followers;
People who exist within and without
All of the categories that so many strive
To create to enforce a rigid order;
Night owls and early birds;
People who want to use the library’s
Services and expand them;
Shushing people, laughing people;
The people whose eyes grow wide
With sheer wonder when they see
Everything that a library can be;
People who want to make the library
A place that is truly welcoming and
Safe.

Because without all of these people doing
What they do, a library
Isn’t a library. It’s just a building full of books.

A Failure of Memory

I was sad yesterday,
Because a conversation
Turned to you, and I
Could not find the memory.
My mother and my
Oldest sister talked
About watching you play
Cards at the folding
Tables in the church
Basement, and it just
Wasn’t there, and I
Felt as though I had
Done you a disservice.
But in trying to find
A memory that I may
Not have been old
Enough to form, I found
So many more thoughts
Of you, and the love
You showed for your
Grandson. And in those
Other memories of you,
I think I’ve found joy.

Nightmare

You’re awake in the middle of the night
A bad dream
Or something akin to one
And from downstairs, I hear you
As you begin to cry
And I respond
It’s my job to keep
You safe, even from the dangers
That aren’t real
(Especially then)
Because you’re still learning
The difference.
And in seconds, I’ve reached
Your door, stepped over
The gate that keeps you
And your little brother from
Roaming the hall at night,
Scooped you up in my arms
And whisked you away
To the light of the
Kitchen.
Soon, you’re calmed by
The promise of a
Cup of milk and
A warm blanket and
Snuggling in my arms
On your favorite couch.
Your smile then is the
Brightest I’ve seen from you in days,
And then I too
Am ready to face the dark again.

Lessons

Today I paused a moment beside
My son, kneeling in the gentle
Rain as we waited for the first
School bell to ring, and I showed
Him an earthworm, slowly making
Its way across the pavement of
The playground so that he would
Know to step around it as he and
His classmates moved inside.

For MJ

“For MJ”

We said our farewells to you
Over the weekend
Listened to elegant words
About you
And by you
The subtle jazz tones of a saxophone
Blown across the mountainside
Where we gathered
Wind rustling your favorite
Trees while a caterpillar
Slowly made the long journey
Past my feet
And a white butterfly
Caught the sun
Just right on its wings
And a honey bee
Sought some of the sweetness
Lost in your passing
Nothing to mar the blue
Sky above but our
Fading tears

3:40 AM

My infant son

Has been asleep

In my arms

In the rocking chair

For almost ten

Minutes

And I could

Put him back

Into his bed

With his clean sheets

And a dry diaper

And warm pajamas

And a few minutes to

Go until his mother

Can come in

From work in

The office (garage)

To feed him

But I think

That I’ll just sit

Here and hold

Him in my arms

For just another

Quiet

Moment

While the world

Spins

On.

Leap Day

It’s not really an “extra” day, I

Know, but there’s something

Unbelievably special about

One extra night falling asleep

Next to you.

Epiphany

You

are allowed

to write things

that are not

Profound

Hallowe’en

“Hallowe’en”

 

In distant times, it is said,
People would gather to
Be near to one another on
A cold night, and reflect
On the warmth of those
They had said their final
Farewells to many years
Before.

And on that cold night,
Halfway through the fall,
We remember those no
Longer with us, and we
Bid them to come near,
That we might learn
From them even in
Absentia.

My Truth

My truth is my own,
And if you cannot
Open your mind to a
Reality that is vastly
Different than the one that
You have always known,
Then perhaps, dearest reader, you
May find that these
Tales are not for you.