Day 29 – On the occasion | Poem a Day (NaNoWriMo)

dragonfly on a Sweet William flower
dragonfly

BIRTHDAYS

measuring time—
twenty-five or thirty-some years
yet to go … or less
looking at past records
of family births and deaths

my dad felt a hundred years
was too long to stick around for
my mother thought that ninety-four
was quite a bit too short
neither was pleased

don’t know what I’ll think
when my world and I transform
when time becomes eternity
maybe I’ll notice, or perhaps I’ll
forget what came before

Copyright © 2019-11-29, by Liz Bennefeld. All rights reserved.


Day 17 – Extended Conversations | Poem a Day (NaNoWriMo)

Out in the Country

“Catching Up With Mother”

I woke up thinking, “I should call Mom, today”,
forgetting that she died three years ago this week.
Forgetting that she had not taken a call from me
at least half a year before I got called to have
the ambulance tear her from her only home.

I still want to call her and ask about her week
and the previous years since we last caught up.
I don’t know where she’s sitting, or if she wants
to walk with me along a pasture fence
in a place not new to her…or one not new to me.

If I go ahead and start a new conversation,
should I pause between my sentences?
to see if she will answer me or make
a comment of her own? She liked to talk to me
but she didn’t always listen. Now, I wouldn’t care.

I have looked through all the emails. Of course,
none are new, and the last that were coherent
were sent a year before she died. I hadn’t,
really hadn’t noticed how far thing had gone.
Or feeling bewildered, I didn’t want to see.

When Mother wasn’t panicking, she took me
as she found me, loving me all the while
she wondered why I wanted to be me
and not the daughter that she’d wanted. But
she still trusted me to do what must be done.

I can feel her arms around me, giving me a hug.
I can’t hear her voice, but she knows when I cry.
She can hear me talk to her and read what I write.
I know that she and God are always present to my life.
The separation that I feel is just an odd notion in my mind.

Copyright © 2019-11-17, by Elizabeth W. Bennefeld.

Day 15 – In the Middle | Poem a Day (NaNoWriMo)

edge of town, looking south
The Edge of Memories

Recognizing the inevitable loss of friends, family members, and mentors over the years.

mourning once again
the loss of those who loved me
who brightened my life

locked themselves away from me—
walked away . . . I stand alone

Copyright © Liz Bennefeld, 2019-11-16.

Day 15 prompt: a “middle” poem

Edited to add: Another in the previous generation of relatives just died this morning; he was 95 years old. Alert and lucid to the end; a low blood oxygen level for a couple days, and then his heart just stopped beating.