poetpotter

Have you ever thought about the things less tangible, things you cannot touch or package, but just enjoy? This was part of my muse one day. Undeliverables I can bring you a ripe tomato a love letter written with my own hand I can bring a friend to sit with you a bowl of soup a litany of forgiveness, but I cannot deliver the sunrise over a lake the dew upon the flowers; you have to go and see it for yourself I cannot bring the thousands of miles we travelled together or the hurts of the journey; those would be too heavy to carry and you wouldn’t want them anyway the undeliverables that even a grocery man cannot package Carolyn R. Wilker Tower Poetry, winter 2015-2016 Volume 64, No. 2

My grandmother whom I write of here, mother of my own mom, has been gone from us more than 30 years now,  mere months after she held our youngest newborn daughter. As I spend time now with my older granddaughters who are 7 and 9 years of age, in the kitchen or elsewhere, I remember spending time with my grandmother. In her kitchen, after she moved off the farm. Enjoy! Kitchen Talk                                                                                                      ...

I wrote this poem for fun one day, imagining how it would be to live a day backwards from dusk to dawn. Backwards What if instead of rising morn we peel the day backwards from dusk to dawn yawning to wakefulness finish the day before it’s begun Our stomachs full, without a bite of food the empty plate before us dessert before potatoes tasks done before we ever start hair combed as though there’d been no tangles clothing wrinkled after the iron What if we started the day at dusk peeled it backwards then tomorrow might be a fine day © Carolyn Wilker Published by Tower Poetry Society Summer 2017, Volume 66, No. 1