September 2024
Bio Note: I live my “retired” life happily busy with poetry and grandkids in Seattle after having spent forty years in the public schools as a Speech-Language Pathologist (SLP). I was unlucky to lose my sister and a close friend to cancer this past year. But I was lucky to have a chapbook memoir of poems about my sister published by Kelsay, Taking Leave, and just recently an online chapbook full of poems I wrote for my friend over the years, titled Infusion, that you can see on Red Wolf Journal.
Spokane Caddie
Pa left the mines, came home to us each spring.
Yep, Ma had her babies nine months later.
Poor Pa died in the mines my sophomore year.
As oldest, no more high school, I went to work.
Weekends, brothers and I caddied for tips
at Down River Golf. I liked Jack Pilik,
railroader’s son. Depression tough all around.
Jobs scarce, I met Jack’s big sister Ethel.
We double dated. Eloped. First baby
not long after. Her dad found me a job
on Northern Pacific. My pocket watch
keeps perfect time. And there’s the hole-in-one,
a decent retirement in thirty years.
I still golf. My youngest caddies for me.
We Want to Give You Words to Say
No drum to announce
beads arranged in disarray—
You come to us for words to say.
Who composes triple-strung faux pearl
strands to wear upon your birthday?
Some children born with words to say.
Welcome to the land of self-expression.
Hand-knotted necklaces hang in shops on display.
Bauble or protective wool scarf words to say.
Come, string faded plum, marbled blue
and green clay river beads in novel array.
Variants of hue in words to say.
Finish to wear share clasp unclasp
Make more strands, try quartz and snowy jade.
We want to give you words to say.
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