Dad. Always perfectly dressed. Suit, hat, tie. Shoes polished. We are at the town green. He puts a few peanuts on one shoulder, then on the other. He has peanuts in his open hand.
"Stand still," he says. "Wait and they will come."
Sunday church bells
summoning the faithful
a flurry of pigeons
Cattails
THE LONG WAIT
I am eight years old and in the hospital for a tonsillectomy. Knowing that there is something in my throat which is often making me sick and that once removed I will feel better does not lesson my fears. But, I am a brave little girl. Or pretend to be. I'm not sure, but I don't cry or whimper or protest when the nurse leads me away from my mother.
On a rolling bed, I'm wheeled into a too bright room, all white and shiny, with silvery tables and cabinets. Men and women in masks fuss around me talking, talking. I understand nothing except "Breathe into the cup and count backwards from one hundred. "Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven… nine…
The room in which I wake is dimly lighted. The girl in the bed next to me is crying; another child across the aisle in calling, "Mama," just the very word I want to say, but can't. I don't feel better as I was told. My throat hurts. I want the pain to go away. I want to go home. I want…I want…
waiting for mama
in a hospital gown
little girl lost
waiting for mama
the little girl cries
as she wets herself
waiting for mama
the little girl swallows pain
and chocolate ice cream
Frogpond
