Category Archives: agate

by

Spring?

It was cloudy most of the day yesterday. I went to the beach when the light was fading, so at 3 pm, and the sun was peering underneath the edge of the clouds. Groundhog Day, so does that mean we will only have five more weeks of winter? Or four? Or mixed with the sun peeking through?

I found my first moss agate, too.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: optimist.

This is not a short watch, but they are where I go when I am worrying.

by

I think of you as dead

I think of you as dead.
Love is not dead, not mine for you.
This is not respectful to those
truly dead. Yet you are dead to me
in that you lie and say forever.
Torched and ashes, now it’s never
and the real you is dead to me.
I love the you that made a different choice,
that loved me back. He holds my hand
and walks with me and laughs with me
daily. And there is nothing you can do
to stop him and me. If anyone asks, you are dead
to me, dead forever, and I will love
whoever my heart chooses, for all time.

________________________________

I found the chalcedony nodule on Indian Island yesterday.

by

Petty lie

What old deep wound causes you
to hurt me and other friends you’ve had
in past. What terrors hidden in that brew
make you glory in making others sad?
You boast to me of throwing people out
of your life forever, never friend
again. You don’t explain what crimes reroute
your heart to where you never speak again
to him or me. How many people discarded
from your heart and at what interval?
How many “friendships” have you departed?
And yet you boast that others call you spiritual.
“Friends forever,” you said. I wonder why
you tell yourself and me that petty lie.

______________________

Sonnet 8

by

Wooden heart

Heart of wood, by the sea
What do the spirits say to me?
His heart is stone not wood you see
And he’ll never come back, never come back, never come back to me
Tree torn from land by flooding water
bark and branches torn asunder
thrown back to the beach stripped and bare
bleached and dried lying there
grass and sand and stones on strand
I wonder how much a heart can stand

This doesn’t really fit today’s Ragtag Daily Prompt. I was looking for another photograph which fits and found this one.

by

Deleting spam

I still think of you occasionally
when I pay the bills, I think of you
when I clean the catbox, I think of you
when I clear the spam, I think of you
it’s the Get’a’super-sized’rod’ ones
that make me think of you and laugh
I want to send them to you every time
I still think of you occasionally
Get’a’super-sized’rod’ and poo and bills

by

Release the Kraken!

I chose measly for the Ragtag Daily Prompt because there is a measles outbreak. Great. Another outbreak? Yes. Parents are behind on bringing kids in for Well Child Checks and kids are behind on immunizations, so measles.

Measles is way more infectious than Covid-19 and is spread by coughing and droplets. Per the CDC: “Measles is one of the most contagious diseases. Measles is so contagious that if one person has it, up to 90% of the people close to that person who are not immune will also become infected.” Read here. Immunizations are at 18 months and age 4-6, two shots. That will make the vast majority of children immune but not quite all. No immunization reaches quite 100%. Measles unfortunately can have some awful and serious complications including death. If your child is behind, get them immunized as soon as possible!

If some has the measles, the rash, they are measly. That is one of the definitions of measly.

Measly weasely
You are so teasely
Your heart has a rash
Our friendship is hash
You toss me like trash
Your heart just smashed
You are so measly
Weasely teasely

___________________

I keep wondering if the earth is annoyed at the way people are behaving. Perhaps she has said, “Release the Kraken!” But the most efficient Kraken turns out not to be a giant monster attacking New York City, but Covid-19, influenza, measles and strep A. Invasive strep A is out there too. Having had strep A pneumonia and borderline sepsis twice, I very much do not want invasive strep A.

It’s the little things that get us, right? Viruses, bacteria. Measles is a virus, like influenza and Covid-19. Strep A is a bacteria. I had very bad influenza in 2003 that put me out for two months. I read about influenza and thought, oh, we will have another pandemic and in fact we were overdue. They come about every fifty years. My children heard quite a bit about it. My daughter said she wondered if I was a little nuts until the ebola outbreak and then she decided that I was probably and unfortunately correct. The only surprise for me was that it was a coronavirus instead of influenza. That and that humans behave in very interesting and often dysfunctional ways when they are stressed: and the same ways as in the 1918-1920 influenza pandemic. Logic flies out the window replaced by panic, magical thinking and rumors and people happy to take advantage of others. Selling fake cures, refusing masks, refusing immunizations and denying that it is happening at all.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: measly.

by

This too two to

This two too to I want to remember.
Licking? Touch for certain, together.
Warmth and safety and rest and trust.
The trust eroded as you run away
over and over. You say always but
you say other things that I can’t believe.
And yet my heart is stubborn still.
This two too to I want to remember.

____________________

Poem series: This. This too. This too two.

by

This too two

This too two I want to remember.
Disagreeing. Respectful nearly always.
You say, “You argue with everything.”
“I think about both sides.” I say.
“And if I am alone I discuss both with myself.”
You roll your eyes and I grin and continue.
This too two I want to remember.

by

Yammer

You’ve joined my silent dead: doesn’t matter
whether you speak or not. You’d like this song
and be jealous of the skills. I yammer
to my dead, the number rising strong.
At sixty I declare that I am middle aged
Mom dies at sixty-one which feels unfair.
My sister dies at forty-nine, cancer rage.
I watched them both as chemo takes their hair.
You too are dead no words across the breach.
I yammer to you daily in my head.
Agates gleam, treasure on the beach.
You refuse to look, I mourn that you act dead.
You sit stubborn in a rocking chair alone.
You don’t believe your dead will call you home.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: yammer.

by

Caramel

Warm and tan and sweet

but you don’t like sticky, heh.

I buy gummi bears and forget to bring them
over and over for months
forget to bring them to the beach.
When you teach me
how to find chalcedony nodules
clear agates that let the light through,
you say, “They look like gummi bears,”
and you are right.

In the early morning when the tide is low
and the sun is low too
angled and polarized light
the nodules, agates we call them
light up like stars, catching the sun.
Sometimes I see one just after you
and you are diving down to get it
and I am too late again

You find three to my one
The gummi bears are a bit hard
when I finally bring them along
I choose a red one, the small kind
tuck it between two fingers
when you aren’t looking
I’ve gotten my fingers a little wet first
so it will light up
the same way as the agates
I wait until we’re a yard apart
and you aren’t looking at me.
I jump forward and reach for the sand
“Look at this one! So red!”
You move towards me and I flash it.
“Almost bear shaped!” I say
and drop it in your hand.
Your face changes from envious
of the clear red to mildly horrified:
“Sticky!” you say, and shake it off your hand.
I laugh and pop a yellow gummi bear in my mouth
and you are laughing too
and shake your head.
“I don’t want one!”
“Got you!” I say.
“Yes,” you say, “You did.”

____________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: caramel.