Roger's Shoes*

"Of what avail this restless, hurrying activity, this heavy weight of earthly duties."
Tukaram

Left
by the side
of the bed-
Roger's shoes.
Running shoes
no longer needed.
Nothing needed now,
the collection
of earthly items
shucked off, useless,
reminding those left behind
of what was shed.
What is left behind:
running shoes
and miles
of memories
and love.

*In memory of my brother-in-law Roger Watson who died Nov.1, 2015 from early-onset dementia (Lewy body.)

A.H.

Got a vocation? Get thee to a nunnery!

Growing up a vocation meant a religious calling to be a nun or priest. Even though the days of neat nun habits seem to have passed, it may not be too late for that vocation. Choose from one of these religious orders ( or shall we say disorders?)

The Mony, Mony Monks
These musically-inclined monks have fun with the rhythm method. They draw their inspiration from the Tommy James and the Shondells smash hit -Mony, Mony." Yeah, yeah, feels so good.

Little Sisters of Stromboli
Got a culinary calling? Want to serve via food? This spicy group of sisters is for you. In a nod to convention but with their unique twist, their nun hat is a chef's toque.

Big Brothers of Zamboni
This highly polished group of men appeals to religious sophisticates. They are also known for impromptu hockey games.

Divine Order of Nappists
Patron Saints: Saint Mattress and Pillowicious

A.H.

Zita Air*

Mom!
I'm older-
why does Zita get an airline first?
Just cleared for take-off-
Zita Air,
not named after my sister Zita
but her namesake Saint Zita
who was "a servant who set an example to her co-workers and even her master."
Also "her perseverance through maltreatment was encouraging."
Wouldn't call teasing my sister maltreatment.
Wait a sec -wasn't she the bread-baking saint?
Did I mention we were raised Catholic?
Hmm, wonder if people named Zita
get free flights?


*actual factual information about a new air taxi company in western Alaska.
Quotes are from company owner Danielle Troll in Alaska Dispatch News.

A.H.

Reflections on Real Life

Lost in the fog
of dementia,
"This isn't my real life,"
she said,
the real one
misplaced.
Caught in a storm
of stress and worry,
I think
"This isn't my real life"
just practicing
for the real deal.

Caught in confusion
she asks
"Am I alive?"
Assured her
that indeed she is
and then pondered
her query.

Panicked
she yelled
"I'm unconscious,
call 911!"
Even I knew
paramedics
can't revive
a broken brain
but
"I'm unconscious"
resonated.

********
Not my finest life today
afraid it'll break.
This is my ordinary life,
will use the best one
on special days.

A.H.

Nickel and Dimed

Some losses
are five dollar ones -
big fat hurts
that everyone pays
dearly for.
Others are
nickel and dime losses,
little grieflets
gathering in grim corners.
Bits of pain-
the hoped-for friendship
a nonstarter,
a minor injury,
a favorite mug broken.
Too many
nickel and dime losses
add up to real pain.
Please keep the change.

AH.

Haiku plus Political

Chickadee displays
a sacred simplicity -
no wasted movement.
******

Slow day,
think I'll start
a new political party:
the possibilitarian party.
Platform:
believing civility,
reason, and (dare I say it?)
kindness can prevail.
Course it's also possible
we're screwed.
******

What makes sense to me
is this:
Oscar perches next to me
watches for birdies outside,
ready to pounce.
What doesn't make sense to me
is this:
political supporters
focused on differences,
ready to strike.

A.H.

Pout Party

No, I don't mean pot party. I've been feeling snarky and snarly lately. Surely it has nothing to do with the fifty shades of gray otherwise known as our winter. Can't be connected with the tone and tenor of state and national politics - no snarkiness there.
Perhaps I have been trying too hard to be sweetness and light and positivity, although my husband might disagree. Maybe it's time to indulge in a pout party , first cousin of the pity party.
No, you are NOT invited to my pout party. I am so not in the mood for company. This isn't an invitation -it's a warning.
For decorations I'm going to deface those yellow smiley faces by drawing a line thru them. Oh, I could just put them upside-down. Speaking of ...remember "turn that frown upside-down?" OMG! Gag me with a dead smurf! (a little fusion of decades there.)
Enough of this writing stuff. Time to sit in a corner and suck my thumb - but not until eating my party  favors, junk food of course.

A.H.