Should I get lost, point me in the direction of a poem.

Different Strokes

July 3rd, 2015 | Posted by bbleen in Uncategorized - (Comments Off on Different Strokes)

During my pre-teen years I spent

most of my summer days

at the pool.

My companions were Lynette

and Elaine, cousins and my

best friends.

I was the tomboy of the group,

spending all of my time

diving from the low boards,

spinning off the high,

staying in the water until the

whistle blew signifying a

mandatory ten minute time out.

At this time teenagers and adults

were the only ones allowed in the

pool. Lynette and Elaine would

get up and wiggle over to the

edge, dipping their toes into

the water, squealing accordingly

if they happened to get splashed.

Once the whistle blew I was back

in the water in a flash. They would

return to their beach towels, roll

their hair up in huge brush curlers

then lie in the sun and bake; turning

up the transistor radio, turning on

the boys.



Last Tree of Fall

September 10th, 2012 | Posted by bbleen in Uncategorized - (1 Comments)

At a fork in the road you catch my eye,

a straggler, magnificent in saffron.

All the trees around you fail to compare.

Already, they have been stripped bare,

their knotty limbs like skeleton fingers

grasping at the air.

I cannot help but stare, for you are

wondrous in your simplicity, the sinking

sun casts you in crimson rays and you

shimmer, aflame.

A late bloomer, you have come of age.

Once a mere tree, you are transformed,