I used to have a fear of Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia . You know, fear of long words.
I blame it on my reading.
I figured out how to understand the squiggly lines on a page when I was 4. In the past, children weren’t encouraged to read in Kindergarten. The best thing for young brains was play, back in the day. Continue reading
Mother, may I laugh with you, even as you breathe
out your last memory on the Covid floor?
Oh the days we laughed, once I was a child no more. Continue reading
Sometimes I can feel my bones straining under the weight of my thoughts. And that’s wrong, all wrong, so I strain more in the down dog position, where my arms and wrists and shoulders take on the weight of my trunk.
My trunk. What a word for my body, which is pack full of multi-grain toast now at 9 in the morning, as well as three cups of hot green tea that have not found a way to warm my fingers, cold down to the bone. Continue reading
Ordinarily, I like to shop in person
Pick my own potatoes, pasta and peas.
Finding culinary delights adds to the fun
I fill my cart, happy with my shopping deeds. Continue reading
My mom doesn’t understand that a virus is attacking the world.
She doesn’t know that those most at risk are the elderly and that at 96, she’s a non-moving target.
She doesn’t realize that the virus takes the most vulnerable, and those who live in a “memory care” facility are the most vulnerable. Continue reading
