beans

snap
snap,
snap beans,
bowl rings as they fall,
her fingers fly
so much faster than mine
Granny snapped
how many millions of beans?
Supper tonight,
and jars on the shelf,
full of green summer flavor
to last through the winter’s dark.
snap,
snap,
memory–
of summer evenings
as a child,
snapping beans
with Granny in the front yard.
I wish i could see her again,
snapping beans,
see if my fingers
are finally
as fast as hers…
snap!

b.

7/2005

 

One of my dad’s favorite poems I wrote, every time I snap green beans, I think of Granny.

cool sand

cool sand, soft on my feet,
the old moon in the arms of the new,
stars coming out one by one.
the sweet taste of wine in my mouth,
and thoughts of you.
the evening air a cool touch on my face,
my footsteps shadows on the wind-blown sand.
wishing.
thinking of your touch:
warm when I’m cold,
tender when I’m lonely,
soothing when I’m restless,
comforting, giving me strength.
wishing I could share with you
who are too far away to touch
except in my mind
and heart
as I watch the evening sky go dark.

4/2003

 

A poem written at Monahans Sandhills State Park