Sunday, June 26, 2011

I Woke to the Sounds of Approaching Storm

I woke to the sounds of approaching storm
in a half-light, blue and grey--


(The usual Southern ending
to a humid Southern day...)


And, grateful I was waking
from a needed Sunday rest,



Thought of other storms I'd lived through


And felt more Supremely blessed.


(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
June 12, 2011 Sunday 7:30 pm

Friday, June 24, 2011

The Once Was Poem

Every night I dream
that I have lost something.




In every case
it is the same;
I dream
I am losing you.




Something I have left unfinished
Something that never could be finished
Something you never fully achieve



 
In my dream that undone something haunts;
A nagging tiresome:
You should be practicing.  You should be practicing.  You should
be practicing...

I have left
For something else.



 
How many times when I once was that someone
Did I push myself
with the same thought? --the constant
Urging
Be!



 
It is not so much now
As I think on what once was
That I have such a high opinion of myself
As to mourn its loss--





It is just
A nebulous feeling



 
that I will be called on again...
And will not be ready.




It is just
this deadweight feeling



 
I may have disappointed them all;

 


This other-natural nagging sense
that Once




Was such

 


a long time
Ago...


(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
June 24, 2011 5:00AM

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

After the Bedtime Circus

After the bedtime circus antics


After dishes, leftovers and laundry...
After placing the smallest gently in his cradle,



I'll steal away quiet and lonesome to my poems

Clearing a too-frenzied rush of words
Pent up from the day's hectic.



I will steal away and write by touch
in a darkened room
So as not to wake the baby...



Only to find that you,
Gentle wide-eyed white-faced moon



Have been watching me all this time
Through pin-stripe chinks
In the window blinds.

(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
June 8, 2011 Wednesday

Sunday, June 19, 2011

A Father at Home


Nights you come home,
scatter your shoes and socks with a sigh;
the simple brown IKEA couch we love
receives you like water
receives a raindrop. All day
you have given,

All day
thoughts of home and
wife and son
support you.


When you come home--
You will take your tiny son up in your arms


And as he squeals with infant delight—
unguarded, happy toothless grins
at the promise of playing
Daddy-games: Lions, Footsie, Up-and-Down—

You will remember
again
what all the rain is for;
You will
remember


How strong a newborn
and a father at home
can be.
(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
May 24, 2010 Monday 10pm

Happy Father's Day, Sweetheart.  Thank you.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Last Thing She Said to Me

The last thing she said to me
was Enjoy those babies.



They're the best thing
you could ever do,
The best thing
To live your life for.



With everything else
you can do so well, darlin



Nothing else
will bring you so much joy.
Enjoy
Those babies



For me.

(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
June 13, 2011 Monday 10:50 am

Dearest Gran... I miss you.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Sand Dollar Doves

I remember when you told me
There were five tiny doves
Inside the heart
Of every sand dollar.


We had to wait
Until we'd found a broken one
Before I could see.



As I remember
There was some bad luck involved



In breaking a sand dollar
Yourself.

So you had to wait for a wave


To do it for you.



(c) Kathryn W. Ritter
June 8, 2011

*In loving memory of my grandmother...  Who could ever hope to fill the special place you filled in all our hearts?*