The Language of Affection

Owen, my son
Of 36 years
Used to sit on my lap
(for only a second)
When he was twenty.
Safe and home –
Counting on me.

Years later, he
Carried his father
Frail from mesothelioma
(whenever necessary)

He advised me
That his 3 year old daughter
Would be very upset
If I thought she ate all the chocolates,
Without permission.

She was reassured
Listening to Poppa tell me
Her feelings if I thought her sneaky.

Then today
After enjoying one chocolate,
She deposited the wrapping in my hand.
Evidence that all
Was understood:
The trust-
The certainty-
The affection-

The attention to details!



Finding myself

By a stepmother
On Father’s Day.

With the responses
In the catholic church.
But familiar with the ecumenical language
Of Christ Episcopal.

Unable to muster
The mobile com;
Nostalgic for phone booth,
Landlines and quirky operators.

It isn’t even summer,
But the heat rises
To 105 and 115 degrees.
“Global Warming” seems too mild a term!

I schedule Sedona
To teach Calligraphy.
But they call it a ‘lost Art”
And banish Italic from the schools.
Seems we’re banned from flourishes!

Baking cookies
Used to be the last resort
For grounding.
Now we’re pushed out
As robots “chef” the kitchen:
Automatic invaders.
Chocolate chip cookies
Replaced by antioxidants.

Seems I’m just
An outdated label,
Making way for e-branding,
High surveillance
And texting blips!

U think?

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