Rising Sun, Setting Sun

I drove East early today.
The clouds were dark against the sky
as if they were in mourning,
but the sky itself was bright orange
streaked with pinks and blues.

I drove alone over back roads,
past the trees full of blossoms,
past yards green and needing mowing,
past fields dark and ready to plant.
Winding roads with no other cars.

I drove forty-five minutes to South Bend,
where I joined my four brothers
in our mother’s hospital room.
“Hi Honey,” she said when I came in.
She was glad to see me.

I drove to the hospital to hear the doctor
tell us what we have feared,
that he’s done all he can,
there’s no more treatment, no more hope.
She is ours now, as she always has been.

I drove back the long way over quiet roads.
We will bring her home, make her comfortable,
stay with her, as she has stayed with us.
Tonight the sky glowed orange once again,
as the sun slowly settled into the lake.

Counting my Blessings

Auntie Sloan and Nolan

Sometimes when life is heading down a difficult path, I need to stop and remind myself that, no matter how scary things are, my life is also full of blessings. Two of the many are my beautiful daughter, who has always been the shining light in my life, and my adorable grandson, who has so many wonderful things ahead of him.

Annie Oakley Recollects

The week of April 18 is "Cowboy Poetry Week" and this is the one I did to share with my writing group.

Annie Oakley Recollects
I was just a little bit of a thing,
but I took no guff from any man.
I learned to shoot to help my ma,
but I entered that shootin’ match with a plan.

I beat Frank Butler fair and square,
then joined his act and went on tour.
It wasn’t long before we fell in love,
and we both kept shootin’ straight and sure.

We signed up with Buffalo Bill Cody,
he called me “Li’l Missie.”
Sitting Bull called me “Little Sure Shot”
but nobody called me “sissy.”

I shot cigarettes out of Frank’s mouth,
my shooting skills made quite the scene.
We toured swanky places in the East,
then sailed abroad to meet the Queen.

I shot with Winchesters and Colts,
Smith & Wessons were equally fun.
I liked to tell people all the time,
“don’t trust you life behind a cheap gun.”

For many years we travelled with the show,
I never lost my keen eye sight,
until a train wreck in North Carolina,
turned my hair white overnight.

It was time to retire I told my Frank,
and he agreed it was time to rest.
It’s funny that I spent my life as a cowgirl
but never once set foot in the West.


Denise Kalin Tackett
April 20, 2010

Snapdragons

During April Poetry Month I am writing a poem every even day of the month. Here's one I wrote for April 16








Snapdragons
There are snapdragons on my mother's table,
sent in a get-well arrangment.
They are wilting, the colors fading,
much like the woman they were sent to cheer.

When I was young she grew snapdragons in her garden.
She would bend over, her red hair shining in the sun,
and show me how to squeeze them softly,
to make their mouths open and close.
Standing on their sturdy stalks, the plump buds
snapped like dragons at play.

Now I look at these sad flowers arranged in a white basket,
hardly strong enough to stand on their own,
their lower buds withered and dried,
their upper buds can barely snap,
but I gently try each one,
anyway.

Daffodils for My Mother

I have not written much lately because of a difficult time in my life right now. My mother is critically ill as she battles cancer and seems to be traveling down a road from which she will not be able to return.

In the tradition of Charles Dickens, I have come to think of this spring in terms of "it was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Although my situation is certainly not as dire as the French Revolution, it is a way for me to cope with all that's going on.

The spring has been beautiful, with an early disappearance of snow and an early appearance of flowers, blossoms and warm weather. Daffodils ($1 a bunch!) are in roadside stands everywhere.

We have been blessed with a new baby boy grandson, Nolan, who is 3-1/2 months old as I write this, and he's so perfect.

But all this is shadowed by my mother's illness. Watching this once vital woman fade away. Watching her lie in her bed and tell me she just feels miserable, and both of us feeling so helpless to change it.

I am her only daughter, I have given her her only granddaughter. We have a strong bond. We like each other. I have always felt I could handle anything that came my way because she was there to back me up. It is difficult for me to think that may not be the case for much longer.

When I hold Nolan, his warm little body curling into mine, his soft baby hair against my cheek, I know that life is meant to go on. That I can not save her by my sheer force of will. I know it is out of my hands, it's up to a higher force. But I still can't accept that, I can not imagine the hole I would have in my life.

All I can do is be with her as much as possible. To buy her bunches of flowers to brighten her room. To let her know I am there, even if she must travel to that place she must go to alone.