The Claw

Do you remember 

Fairgrounds in summer? 

Full of noisy teenagers laughing 

and flirting with each other, the motors of the crazy rides throwing everyone into hysterics of 

laughter or terror, every ride with strident music, and all the games of chance. “You could win 

your girl this giant teddy bear!!”   “Dunk the clown in frigid water for only a buck!”  And then there 

was The Claw. Probably called 

different names in different midways,  

but just as frustrating. The goal?  To get 

the prize -  some brightly colored little 

stuffed toy sitting inside a plexiglass 

case of multi-colored  plastic balls. Getting 

The Claw to grasp the toy and swing it to the 

chute….almost! That’s what writing is like: all 

those words with the most brilliant idea 

always just out of reach! But here I am 

again, putting my quarter in, believing 

that I will catch that it. But not tonight. 

I’ll try again tomorrow.

“If I waited for perfection, I would never write a word.”

~ Margaret Atwood

Journey into Nap~time

Settling into position for a nap

was not something I wanted when 

I was 5 years old. Looking out my 

bedroom window at the tall brown 

elevators and a passenger train rumbling past was more 

interesting. But many years have rumbled past and my window gaze

is just sleepy. My grey wool blanket encourages my eyes 

to close and in a breath, 

I drift into nap~time.

“Let’s begin by taking a smallish nap or two.”

~ A.A. Milne

Dusting

Poetry brushes the dust 

from a day’s work, to 

reveal little pulses of heart 

and longing that remain 

still and quiet all day while 

I go about the reading and 

writing, washing dishes and 

sweeping the floor, feeding 

me and the cat, or walking 

home from the bus stop. 

 

“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.”

~ Carl Sandburg

Behind My Eyes

Behind my eyes lives 

imaginings of dreams 

gone wild in the mist 

of wonderings and 

waking, ’til morning 

brightens my windows 

and I close the curtains 

behind my eyes.

“Nights through dreams tell the myths forgotten by the day.”

~ C.C.Jung,  Memories, Dreams, Reflections