Day: April 6, 2020

 
The world seems eerie today
It is quiet, gray and no movement
The feeling is damp with no wind blowing
The sun is not flirting with the clouds
I decide to think of my ancestors
I remember them back as far as my Grandpa’s mother
She lived in the country with an old maid daughter
She had a hand pump for water in the yard
There was none in the kitchen
My grandpa never owned a home
He always rented and it was kept clean
He had an indoor hand pump in one home
He always put in a garden and had chickens
He loved to prune fruit trees
When neighbors left for a few days
He would prune their tree, to their dismay
They would be angry at him, but
The tree bore a lot of fruit
Then they thanked him
He lived by the railroad tracks and
In the summer the smell of creosote was prevalent
If you liked it, it was a good smell
He lived close to where the Fort Wayne Daisy’s played
We could walk to the park and watch them against
The Grand Rapids Chicks or the Rockford Peaches
My dad’s father was a baker and did a good business
He was born in Amsterdam as was my dad
They lived on Wabash Avenue and the bakery had living quarters
My other grandparents lived later on the same street
That grandpa was a janitor at Tokheim’s factory 
where they made gasoline pumps
During WWII they converted over to a munitions factory
The baker grandpa died before I was born so I only knew him from pictures
I am now the oldest living relative on each side of the family
My late sister used to keep up the family tree
I don’t know if anyone is continuing this practice
It is a lot of fun to dwell on the past and remember
 
Stanski
April 6, 2020 ^

I wrote the line
It flowed from me
Like a swan on a glassy pond
I liked the way it looked
Did not measure it twice
Somethings should not be tampered with
This would do for me
But then, the critics
What would they think?
They stood like a stand of birch trees
Each mimicking the other
Unbeknownst to any of them
Their words were similar
Could be interchanged and
No one would know the difference
They looked the same
Thought the same
Were paid the same
By the same sources
Their goal was the same
To pick apart my words
Make me look bad
Imply that I was behind the time
They saw some movement
Someone pulled the curtain open
Everyone expected a marionette
Whose every movement 
Was manipulated by wires
But what they saw was just me
The applause was deafening
Who were the applauders?
In a split second I figured it out
They were the gun toting,
Bible thumping deplorable
It made sense
They liked my words
They could not be spun
They would endure
All would be well
 
Stanski
April 5, 2020 ^