Morning Walk

29 Oct 2015

10/15/15

Morning Walk

No more morning walks in the sun. Now I walk in the dark. The canopy of the sky is strewn with winking stars. I stop and gaze round at the splendor of the heavens above me, awed at the unknown worlds I am only able to glimpse as a speck of light.

BAMorris

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Widows

26 Oct 2015

7/4/15

Widows

I celebrated the 4th yesterday with a friend’s family. We had the usual food: hot dogs, hamburgers, baked beans, salads, and birthday cake to honor two members of the family. I have known the hostess and her family for over ten years, and feel like a part of the family: a distant cousin, if you will.
There were three widowed women at the celebration. All had been married lengthy years to their mates before their death. Listening to them talk, I was struck by a common theme they all expressed. All of them said they had trouble sleeping now that they were alone. The bed felt empty without the body of their husband that they had grown accustomed to having there beside them. There was something about the absence of the security (physically, emotionally, soulfully) of their mate there beside them that held sleep at bay. One said during the day it was easy to fill the hours with people, noise, and activity: all things that occupy the senses and the mind. But in the stillness of the night, when it is time to lay down the burdens of the day, check the windows and doors, and make sure all is right in your world, all is not right. Something is very wrong, and there is nothing you can do to right it. How to sleep with the sense of wrongness that is the loss of your mate?
I listened to the ways each woman had tried to adjust and compensate. Pillows piled up on the empty side of the bed. A huge sleep pillow to hug. Cooking in the middle of the night. Some of their methods worked for that night. But the next night brought on the renewed battle to lure sleep’s soothing presence into their bed.
I would never have thought that lying down alone to sleep would have felt so alien, so wrong to a woman who is now a widow. But I have spent a good part of my life alone, so it isn’t new to me.

BAMorris

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Smitty

26 Oct 2015

10/25/15

Smitty

I am going to reunite with someone I knew in eight grade; someone who has become a legend to me.
I can feel his reluctance to see me, but curiosity, too. I guess we both wonder what fifty years have done to the other. So much different in the world since then! The battle he fought to attend what had been an all White school was part of the larger war against “Separate but equal.” I taught many years in what was then a predominately Black school, watching White students find their way in that strange environment.
We both have questions. Him: Why now do you find me and reach out? Me: How did you come to be in my math class in 1963? I hope we can find some common ground upon which to build a here-and-now friendship. I hope that one common math class can open the door to laughter and caring between two seniors who once were “sort of friends” in the brave new adventure of integration.

BAMorris

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Fire

26 Oct 2015

10/4/15

Fire

It’s fireplace weather.
Time to lay the wood.
Strike the match and hold
It to kindling.
Flames begin to dance.
Feel the warmth chasing
Away the cold damp.
Relax and settle
Into the light, heat,
Comfort of fire.

BAMorris

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A Day

26 Oct 2015

10/2/15

A Day

Dreary, damp day.
A dark, dull sky.
Grey. Foreboding.

Endless rain falls.
Silently soaks
Ground, trees, humans.

Long stretches time.
From morning dark
To night’s black fall.

Bright golden sun
A memory.
Dream of future.

BAMorris

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Good Morning

26 Oct 2015

10/2/05

Good Morning

A cup of tea.
A good book.
Soft blanket.
A warm dog
Cuddled close.
These things all
Make morning
Sweet and pure.

BAMorris

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Rain Attack

26 Oct 2015

10/2/15

Rain Attack

Rain hits my face and hands
Like flying needles.
Sharp bites against my skin.
The wind whips stray hairs
Like a lash to my skin.
Morning walk becomes
A battle with Nature.

BAMorris

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Dreary Morn

26 Oct 2015

10/1/15

Dreary Morn

Dungeon dreary morning.
Deep in the ground dampness
Seeps through clothing to chill.
Gunmetal gray skies hang
Low over sodden fields.
No sun shows in the East
To break the baleful gloom.
Another rainy day.

BAMorris

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Winkie Winterized

24 Oct 2015

10/19/15
Winkie Winterized

I know the cold is coming as I watch Winkie run across the yard, a fur fluffed bended yellow, grey and brown puffball of a cat with tiny legs churning. With his new winter coat his body has exploded to three times his actual size. Looking at him I know soon I’ll look like something from another planet as well, when I don my parka with its thick lining and hood, gloves and scarf. Winkie is my warning to get ready for the cold.

BAMorris

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I Know

24 Oct 2015

10/19/15

I Know

I know winter is coming
As trees slowly drop their leaves.
Flowers wilt in the cold wind.
The night stretches longer each day.
And Earth becomes colorless.

BAMorris

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