One of my favorite quotes as a septuagenarian is “we must have old memories and young hopes.” Catchy, right? Sigh.
I have a revision. Check it out: we must have new memories and reclaim old hopes.
Yesterday’s new memories with Pretty and our granddaughters
at a favorite playground
Today’s old hopes reclaimed on signs
in our front yard
I should have saved my signs from 50 years ago. All women – including our granddaughters – must have the right to control their own bodies. Period. End of discussion.
Unbelievably Pretty and I didn’t lose power during the winds and rain of Hurricane Ian as it passed through our neighborhood two days ago. I held my breath and feared the worst: I wouldn’t be able to finish the Sidney Poitier documentary on Apple TV+ or watch A Raisin in the Sun afterwards. I needn’t have fretted about the telly, though.
During a rain recess I walked to the mailbox and was pleasantly surprised to find a copy of Rooted and Winged, poems by Luanne Castle, stuck among the host of political asks for financial support which are routine with the mid-term elections looming. Luanne is a blogging friend who shares my interest in personal history mixed with current cats, a love of family, a truth seeker and teller. Hooray, I thought to myself as I put the book down on my chair and returned to Sidney on the still functioning Apple TV+. Regardless of wind and rain, I had a book to read by candlelight. No need for candlelight – my lamp bulbs performed their duties without interruption.
As the title suggests, this latest collection of poems by award winning poet Luanne Castle vividly portrays her recollections of the people and places that grounded her for life as well as the later forces which led her to observe nature with more than casual acquaintance, confront change in a world spinning out of control, and ultimately gave her wings to the voice she now uses to simultaneously sound alarm while offering comfort.
Here are excerpts from two poems I found unforgettable.
Why We Waitfor Rain
We wait for hourswatching the dark unfurling
toward us, unsure
if it will land here at all
whether it carriesthunderstorm or haboob
It smells like rain
bittersweet cocktail of sandstone & blossoms
still damp and quickening in the air
over ten thousand years…
And then this wonderful fantasy When I’m in Charge
Even if you believe you’ve never liked poetry, I encourage you to have a go at this collection. I guarantee you’ll surprise yourself by the emotions the images evoke even as your mind takes flight.
Carport Kitty settled on a mat at the bottom of our kitchen steps to weather the disastrous Hurricane Ian this week – our home in West Columbia, South Carolina was spared the devastation our neighbors in the low country of the state experienced for the past two days – we are two hours inland from Charleston. We realize we dodged a dangerous bullet by a few twists and turns on the large weather map that showed the destinations Ian reached; for that Pretty and I are immensely grateful.
This morning CPK shared her space with ?
Bully Cat who gave me a stare
The costs of catastrophic weather events like Hurricane Ian are immeasurable today in the losses of lives and property, these costs will linger in the memories of so many people for all their tomorrows. To anyone who struggles to rebuild and restore their dreams for themselves and their children, whether from a blow from nature or a blow from another personal loss or disappointment, I hope you will find your own mat to weather the storm like Carport Kitty did. Maybe you can even comfort someone else.
I'll Call It Like I See It 
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