“One More Time,” “Hurly Burly California-Fall, 2020,” and “Coming to Terms”

Hold me in your arms just one more time.

Let me feel you surround me.

Let me feel your embrace.

Your solidness, your security, ever my touchstone.

You blanketed me for decades

in your quiet ways, rock steady, always there

even when the earth shook around us.

And from your windows I watched skies turn to gold,

wind-swept trees and pouring rainstorms.

I ran in your hall to sick children in the night

and carried little ones back and forth

who wouldn’t fall asleep

singing endless lullabies.

You always provided for our family

so many meals cooked in your kitchen,

so many gatherings around the dining room table.

You witnessed it all—

the painful moments of real life

you held us in grief and consoled us

when we were inconsolable

perhaps you are bereft too

I hear the echoes of your silence

as you now stand empty, boxes picked up,

furniture gone, moving truck chugging up the hill

I’ll say a last good bye dear friend

Fall arrived with its hurly burly ways

leaves descended and twirled

in their carefree spinning dance

shouting in burnt umber, red and orange

a glorious pageant of fall colors

seasonal smells of cinnamon and spice

market stalls boasting stacks of fat pumpkins

waited for carving magicians

Even though we lost summer that year

our lazy carefree days stolen away

beach trips and family picnics absconded

fall snuck in like an unruly marching band

who’d been practicing on the sidelines

bringing with it the usual—

windstorms, heat waves

and deadly wildfires

The inexorable cycle of the seasons

couldn’t be halted even by the virus

trick-or-treaters settled for half empty candy bags

Thanksgiving plans curtailed

dinners set up outside in backyards

empty seats at our tables

paper plates instead of china

only a few favorite recipes and take out

short cuts were ok

Yes fall arrived like a favorite uncle

we’ve been eagerly awaiting

though he sometimes made trouble

and he had bad breath and smelled

and we didn’t welcome him with open arms,

just a quiet “glad you’re here”

Coming to terms with a big birthday,

flashing like a red neon sign.

I have also measured out my life with coffee spoons,

but now time has lost its grip

as days and weeks meld

in an unceasing drip

like water out of a leaky faucet.

Preparing my husbands’ pills every three weeks

feels like just a day has gone by.

I watch the seasons drift and flow—

lady summer has snuck out the back door.

Weren’t we just floating in the pool a minute ago

under perfect azure skies?

The fall show is splashing down,

its shower of reds, burgundy, and vermillion.

I hate to see it end, too soon the trees bare and desolate,

leaves languishing in gutters like lost jewels.

Winter is in the wings, I can feel it encroaching.

And how can my grandchildren get taller

every time I see them

when they were just babes in my arms.

Now they discuss greenhouse gas emissions

and scold me to recycle.

This birthday is stopping me hard in my tracks,

but I’m proud to have made it this far,

having fought off cancer.

I never felt sorry for myself,

just did what I needed to do—

surgery, chemo, and radiation

which wasn’t easy.

Now coming to terms

with what’s left for me on my dance card.

I know there are still dances,

still time to enjoy and love

and keep living and dancing.