Poetry

Kindergarten Colors

 

After frequent stops,

the playground fills,

first quietly,

then boisterously,

until three-foot nascent learners

stand on the yellow line

that leads each to a yellow chair.

 

Eternity changes at recess,

where he can run faster,

throw farther, and

pet Alisha’s pony tail,

hoping that she’ll sit near

in the room of choices—

fish sticks or peanut butter,

mimicking or clinging

to the trail of tempered words

that only lead back to a yellow chair.

 

Too long he’s sat in yellow

forming letters up to “Z.”

Exploding at the bell,

he races out the door—

into the green SUV,

turning red, turning to his sister,

Release. Pow!

 

 

~Pam Miller

 

 

Sonnet for Debbie’s Waiting

Sunlit window framed soggy yards of green.
Pithy iris reclaimed her promised ground.
Vernal breeze so quickly deceived the scene,
slammed the shutters, pulled my sweater around.

In fizzy heat half past the month of May,
purple passion hung o’er petals of white.
My hair uncurled and limped around all day,
for lilac’s sweet had barely stayed the night.

Freon cooling poured out with much distain.
Then came a tweet and twit outside my door!
Hardy lily-of-the-valley remained.
Had lilt of life returned to me once more?

Pious gardens bespoke such loyalty.
Now sounds again this symphony for thee!

~ Pam Miller

 

The Gift of a Little Sister

I had a little sister.

She didn’t look like me,

but twirled her curls

as smile unfurled

her mischievous deedle-dee.

 

I read my sister a story.

Cinderella’s tale I told,

and magical others,

not read to brothers,

dreaming till we got old.

 

My sister had a Barbie™.

She sat to play with me,

while I sewed the trim

and fashioned a hem

in fake fur and corduroy.

 

We cheered, us two, from bleachers.

I wilted in steam, late June,

rallying to shout,

“No way! He’s out,”

humming that ball park tune.

 

My sandals fit my sister.

So, while the night was young,

we ate ice cream

and talked of dreams

until the stars were flung.

 

A cute beau found my sister.

She styled her hair to flip

and borrowed my dress,

pretty cute, I guess,

with color to match her lips.

 

Suddenly I lost my sister.

She galloped states away,

to jump off a shelf

and think for herself,

returning to visit one day.

 

A child climbed my steps.

My sister’s love in tow

then bridged the gap

as he sat in my lap,

only now I’ve told her so.

 

Little sisters are so tiny,

I hardly noticed the pull

that banned my foe,

unlocked my joy–

augmenting the strength of my soul.

.~ Pam Miller

 

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