Flying Home
The stranger next
to me, too close
for comfort, I can
practically feel his
breath on my neck,
or is it the air I
always have to turn
on high? How I hate
to fly, I always seem
to get searched,
and while I
Aging
Dear Mrs. McGreevy (a draft)
Dear Mrs. McGreevy,
I am sorry I was a little scared of you when I knew you were alone,
how afraid I was to kiss your cheek – you see, I could not bear
the way that rude hair on your forgotten chin would puncture
the innocence of my own, and I was so very much afraid
that your mouth had resisted its own skin, taught against the gums,
Dear Mrs. McGreevy (a draft) Read More »
Guest Poem: Cleaning the Tea Buckets
The ladies in the senior center craft room
Complain about their aging husbands:
“He never this …” and “He always that …”
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Ashby
Massachusetts, Circa 1988 I am thinking about the first time anyone heard the word computer. Was it like when I learned what Windows was? Or how a GPS could magically take me anywhere I wanted without getting lost? No more need to stop in for maps I’d never fold back in their envelopes. Those required
Elder Care
This morning, the coffee pot looked different,
my husband having switched out
one gadget for another, far too complicated
for such an early hour. And so for a change,
I make tea with a satisfying plop of heavy cream,
squall of sweetener, one sip reminding me of Mrs. Torpey,
and Mrs. McGrievy, and that tall, smiling lady my friend and I visited
What I’m Learning About Aging
by Katherine Gotthardt
What I’m learning about aging
is we don’t do it alone –
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Midday Walk
By Katherine Gotthardt
It’s long overdue, this reflecting,
turning the outside in,
examining what everything means.
Memory Care
Every second, you give up a little more, stare at the space between us, mumble one-word answers, refuse your favorite sandwich. I understand. It’s part of the sickness, part of what stitches our suffering together. No pill or doctor can cure us. So I sit with you as you empty the last bits of yourself
