posting poetic prose
15 Jul 2026 16 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: bake, cream puffs, dad, fire
The day Dad tries to
burn our house down
with us in it, my excited
brother is yelling, “Fire!”
as I run downstairs into
cloud of smoke billowing
from open oven door
where Dad’s cream puffs
combust, ashes to ashes,
because he doubled butter.
______________
Lisa hosts “puff” quadrilles (44 words) at dVerse poets pub…
19 Apr 2022 14 Comments
in quadrille Tags: chalk, dad, fish, memories, year
my father
has been gone
exactly a year today
and the memories of
his dying taste like chalk
on a parched tongue…
but the memories of his living
smell like mountain trout,
burnt cream puffs, chlorine
of pool where he saved me
from drowning.
_______________
A quadrille of forty-four words linked to dVerse poets.
28 Jan 2022 2 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: China, covid, dad, faces, hurricane
virus from China
hurricane unleashed on world
hunker down inside
when we dare remove our masks
feel the sun on our faces
My father died last year of covid-induced dementia. He lived a full 87 years. By God’s grace, we’ll see each other again! Link to Carpe Diem Haiku Kai.
14 Apr 2021 6 Comments
in Uncategorized Tags: dad, eagle, soars
i’ve witnessed an
eagle’s presence,
intent, immovable
eyes keen for detail
to build sturdy nest
rule over his domain
with faithful mate
train their young
push out of nest
let go in flight
i’ve watched him
dive determined
for a fish; swoop
over quiet water
to swiftly, deftly
bring it up with
quick strong talons
but he’s most regal
when he soars upon
wind under wings!
—-for Dad
20 Sep 2019 2 Comments
in free verse Tags: brother, dad, hospice, mom, remember, twin towers
he lost second wife
and i, two mothers;
bonded by love’s genes,
shared grief, shed tears.
dad called me to say,
“our twin towers have
fallen;” nine tremulous
months after 9-1-01.
first night in hospice,
last on earth, she reached
up to hug my brother’s
strong neck…her only son.
i’ve dreamed of mom
standing in the kitchen
smiling; she said to me,
“you’re going to be okay.”
dear mom, we bless,
honor and remember
you again today on your
(missed) 83rd birthday.
we revisit our sorrow
even as you celebrate
joyful life in his presence,
who claimed you as his own!
30 Jul 2018 19 Comments
in free verse Tags: dad, fourth, holiday, laugh, remember, spark
fourth of july
was his favorite
holiday when
dad, guardian
of hot punk,
would light
our sparklers;
we’d laugh and
dance in grass,
swirling
happy sparks
in waves of
patriotism.
now he comes
to iowa to
visit us, his
(temp) guardians,
and to watch
fireflies & fireworks,
celebrating his
independence
from assisted living;
he laughs aloud
at whistling stars
and deaf-defying
bangs.
how can i
bear the time
when dad’s
bright spark
explodes and
sizzles out,
smoking white,
and all my
holidays die?
i’ll remember
the laughter,
holding warm
embers.
24 Apr 2018 30 Comments
in rhyming verse, story Tags: brother, dad, inheritance, mannerisms, mother, voice
Mother died, age twenty-five
(of flu-asthma complication)
I, barely 16 months & weaned,
bereft. of primal-love relation.
Passed fears of childhood years
(growing up with best-step brother)
when mom’s older sister said to me,
“you remind me of your mother.”
“Oh, tell me how, right now” I cried
breath-bated wait for answer
she smiled at me and said, ”I see
it’s plain-obvious in your manner,
Voice like hers & when you speak
your hands move just as hers had”
precious-treasure words I heard…
while mirror says I look like dad!
Kim is hosting inherited “body image” poetics prompt at dVerse Poets
01 Sep 2014 Leave a comment
in Uncategorized Tags: dad, fish, philosophy, sonnet, trout
Dad tried to teach brother and I to fish
by mountain lakes where rainbow trout fins swish.
We’d load the car with lunch, our gear, and bait;
sweet summer’s day together filled our wish.
We learned sharp hooks make earthworms twist about!
Dad warned us to “Be quiet” till he’d shout —
our lines were tangled up, both bobbers lost.
We tried his patience more than any trout.
Sometimes we fished for hours on shore of lake,
yet no fish worthwhile eating would we take.
We cast our lines along with hopes and dreams;
fond mem’ries we hold close of summer break.
Dad, thanks for all the things you taught us right
It’s true in life that fish don’t always bite!
___________
(a sonnet of 14 lines: 3 quatrains in iambic pentameter
with AABA rhyme, plus final couplet)
a poem in my pocket 
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