Category: Aging

• To my Aunt Cathy

  It was as we played king of the raft — bobbing the way it did, always half-swamped with the translucent green of the little lake, and all of us shouting, thrashing, sending the fish to the bottom, the sun shining our suits, our shoulders and necks matted with tangled hair, you watching from shore with…

  Jenifer

  September 13, 2014

  Aging, Childhood, Dying, Family, Memory, My family

  poetry

• Top of the White Trail

  The first sense you have is of the isolation and how disorienting it feels to not see anyone, even a stranger.

  Jenifer

  August 29, 2014

  Aging, Childhood, Meditation, Memory, My family, Nature, Pentwater, Seasons

  poetry

• I say goodbye

  In small bits and pieces, the wake trails — a bit of flesh, a heartbeat, a bit of mind, of memory, those moments so carefully gathered up, gaining distance behind. Flesh of my flesh, heart of my heart, mind of my mind, hand of my hands, noise of my noise, song of my song, I…

  Jenifer

  August 15, 2014

  Aging, Dying, Family

  poetry

• Sort of a lamentation

  The bottom line is that you should be afraid of poetry, coming as it does when you least expect it and asking so much, as if it knows you well enough to do that.

  Jenifer

  July 6, 2014

  Aging, Dying, Family, Humor, Memory

  poetry

• She struts

  She struts ahead of me, the hem of her black dress with bunches of pink flowers

  Jenifer

  June 24, 2014

  Aging, Family, My family

  poetry

• End of season

  It is as I notice the half-used garlic bulb on the window sill, papers torn and frayed,

  Jenifer

  June 22, 2014

  Aging, Childhood, Family, Nature, Pentwater, Seasons, Traveling

  poetry