Author: Tamiko Lowery

In the Mourning

can’t

what you think

you can’t do

is done

every day

feet on the floor

one step two

primal pain

the second you’re never the same

people go on

and on

even when they think

they can’t

do that

they do

feeling forsaken

a life taken

waking up a stranger

lost in the wilderness

of where to go

now

which way points up

a compass held

by both

the weak and the strong

in and out of centuries

the mantle of inheritance

what it is

to understand

where you are

where you’ve been

in the nothingness of pitch

nothing changes

unmoved

so says the ray

that goes forth

from the sun

and moments the moon

TL

White Rabbit

the moss

looks velvet

on the tree

a smudge of summer

there

where the white mushroom

opens its umbrella

to roof the rain

a lingering leaf on a limb

refuses to fall

the seasons in submission

I long for spring

the growing everywhere

in England it must be magic there

cobblestone and window-boxes

fresh berries and scones

the clatter of cups and saucers

lilly bells a-ringing

the little shop

cracked in leather

bound books

primed in proper prose

plucked in petals

lost in love

the knoll

is velvet

like the moss

a place to drift

once the cup is empty

and all the words are spent

on things that cost

the Queen

too much

in commonwealth

TL

All Along

past the cloud

beyond the ray

the dip of the day

what the wake left

a footprint in the dirt

handprint on the glass

red on the rim

a bird’s wing

somebody’s stuff

a frosted mug

a copper kettle

the page unturned

the script at crawl

where’s the wind

is it in the east

where the gardenias grow

he’s still pulling up the hose

carrying it around

is it the break of day

already

where did the porch swing

come from

what happened to the trike

the horn

there’s no buggy left to push

simplifies the choice

and it’s raining

or was

the caterpillar went cocooning

a derby horse

at down

the laces need tying

a double knot

segments in an orange

seeds in the core

the pit

the peel

who’s at the door

did that song get played

who heard it

was it beautiful

the arrangement

field formation

who looks at the score

it’s the run game

what you endure

in the allotment

upgrade

the status

we were meant to wonder

to look out

past the cloud

the ray

TL

Last Night

a 5 year old

asked

an 8 year old

“what happened

to Copper?”

the 8 year old

never said

the 5 year old

asked

“what is that …

what is that

coming out

of your eyes?”

TL

Toni Long

there were three

and she was

one of ‘em

and I can still

see her now

crunching that green

apple

‘cause she didn’t

have time for lunch

she kept her hair

real short

‘cause she didn’t

have time to fuss

not a trace of shadow

on her face

she was all about

wellness

that’s what

she taught us

in all her

Britannica brilliance

and she was always in a hurry

to get somewhere

‘cause somebody needed her

badly to be there

and when we’d talk

our talks

she made me feel like

I was the most important person

like what I had to say mattered

enough to slow down

and I remember one day

after class

asking her not about

wellness

but about life

the tragedies of life

and how could I help

all of that

how could I grow up

and make it better

here’s what she told the kid:

“you have to think

of the world

as a great big pie

none of us get

the whole pie

we only get a slice

and you have to

figure out

for yourself

how to make

that slice count …

you can’t change

the whole world

and its problems

none of us can

but you can take a slice of it

and do something great

you can make a difference

in the world

that way

give something back

that’s how you make it better

I know you can do that”

TL

2015

the fizz

in the flutes

fizzled

the baubles

on the tree

bounced

the crumbs Santa left

wiped

the stringy lights

spooled

the ribbon and wrap

tossed

the yuletide chorus

replaced

all your good intentions

centered

the newness of the year

listed

your measure of resolve

tested

in the business of being

awake

TL

Copper

in the dark

of night

we stood

under the stars

and felt no rain

lost in our own drops

our daughter’s dog

is dead

buried in the willows

of roses and remorse

TL

Unspoken

seven days

before Christmas

found myself

standing in a stable

watching children

gallop in sandy circles

the land is open

beyond the wooden fence

the gates

things are simple here

like apple orchards

like a mare

with her slow gait

a hush within a hurricane

she lets small hands

lead her

poses for a picture

listens to them talk

pat her goodbye

she heads to her stall

and we head to our car

and there’s another car

pulling in

and the kids get out

their mother I know

from school

we chat the usual

I look over

and see the window

rolled down

there’s a woman on the passenger side

I go over to say, “hello”

it’s her mother visiting from Korea

in the very back seat

sits her father

I wave hello

they get out of the car

and we’re all standing there talking

they in their Korean

me in my English

the daughter is translating

she tells them I was born in Seoul

and adopted

they look at me …

they see me

we hug each other

they walk over to my daughter

they hold her close

I need no translator

TL

Cultivation

globs of snow

dot the dirt

along a stretch

of frozen rows

mirrored in the horizon

hazy in the silence

of the morning ray

steamed in breath

the crimson tractor

sits ever ready

to plow a new path

over the old

and fat are the hens

that strut in their hutch

high off

corn and cotton

they lay their eggs

their work is done

as the cattle chew

and the mule

stands waiting

for something to happen

TL

The Call

we are

a call away

all of us

a call away

the phone rings

for some

before daylight

for others

nightlight

and nobody

wants to take that call

hear those words

you’re never ready

to hear those words

no matter how many times

you’ve taken that call

there’s still a question

haven’t asked

still a story

haven’t heard

still a laugh

haven’t laughed

still a moment

haven’t had

still that much

haven’t done

said

TL

December

diamond drops

dress the wooded tree

a distant wink of tinsel

in the amber light

of a torrential dawn

that left the parade

floating

the policeman in a puddle

the streets shown

the gray morning

a reprieve

before the bustle

deep pockets

and hurried squirrels

those letters mailed North

the music slows

the dog dreams of a bone

hams and turkeys

parcels and pudding

a star on top

the story of old

“no room at the inn …”

TL

What Love Is

he kept

looking down

at his watch

he knew what time

it started

at the appointed hour

he got up

from the table

and walked across

the kitchen floor

to the glass door

and stood there

staring out …

his boy being buried

his wife at the table

she doesn’t know

she forgot what they told her

he couldn’t leave her

TL

Consider

when you

don’t know

a thing

about any thing

a form of utopia

an oblivion

to be oblivious

of things

not for a man

nor a woman

for adults are aware

of all things

the slightest thing

the abject thing

the base line

a stick in the sand

draw your dreams

only the moon

can laugh

plate and spoon

the cow’s a steak

three bears, three pigs

the golden goose

a tale to tell

even at Christmas

the glass slipper

does it fit your foot

better stories now

to tell your girl

let down your hair

and live

not a storied life

of fairies and tales

but of your own

write

even when

you can’t see the page

the snow falls

for a time

sticks

to the web work

the limbs

roots and blades

ponds and puddles

iced over

in a tray

all things thaw

the web catches

in the wind

the spider finds

another tree

does this

a thousand times

the coldest day

still the spider

will climb

TL

Progression

caught up

in the clock

the tick tock

the fall back

the spring forward

what time is it?

have to be there at

have to leave at

have to get up at

have to

take that down

have to

put that up

what time is it?

gotta go

where

gotta go

there

gotta get

what

gotta get

that

out of that

what do you need

what do you want

sure you know

under and over

to begin again

to be new again

to be in awe

of the earth

and its people

the nature of things

the breath in your body

the birth of your being

the feelings you feel

before and after

the mystery of not knowing

being somewhere you’ve never been

trying something you’ve never tried

the progression

a pendulum

how to proceed

as time turns you

inside out

outside in

the hour in which

we are  

with somewhere to be

not to be

TL

Unpredictable

‘tis

cold today

enough for a coat cold

and it might

rain today

enough for an umbrella rain

then again, might not

rain at all

alas, this is

the South

and it might

shine today

enough for shades shine

or might not

it could hail

golf balls

instead

TL

You Are

when you

sit by the sea  a l o n e

you are the sea

 

when you

watch the rain through the window

you are the drops

 

when you

float off your feet over the waves

you are the ocean

 

when you

skip stones across the riverbank

you are the ripple

 

when you

cry your truth in the valley low

you are the well

 

when you

toss your penny into the fountain there

you are the wish

TL

Obscurity

the untold

story

has no legion

letters

no dotted i

or crossed t

for certain things

in life

there are no words

TL

Woodall

she was

supposed to

blow out her candles

her 64 candles

this day

with her family

all around her

singing

but she got sudden sick

and went to the hospital

thinking she’d stay a few days

and go home

to her husband

but her body shut down

in one of those hospital rooms

and she died

with her family

all around her

crying

when night falls

they’ll go

and reach out to her

one last time

and he’ll feel like

a little boy … once more

needing her

to pick him up

and hold him tight

tell him it’s gonna be all right

and after it’s all over

and the preacher prays

that last prayer

and he goes home

to his wife and baby boy

he’ll feel like

a man

who has aged

too soon

TL

Rainbow Falls

tried this

once before

and turned

around

an hour in

got to that point

bricks and mortar

tell yourself

it’s ok

do it … another day

why not today

bleeding boots

whining when

sandal soles

that’s why

and they tell us

another hour

and a half

you’re there

and it’d be easy

if the trail

were smooth

and even

and dry

but it’s not

at all

resting on rocks

pulling up socks

twisting over rubble

sloshing through the muck

that plank bridge

and this is a vacation

12 miles

to watch

the water

f

a

l

l

and it hadn’t

a thing to do

with water

TL

Souvenir Shop

there was

a quality

of pitch

to her tone

a grittiness

at the bottom

of her laughter

the way she

talked

rhetorical

how she

lifted each

object

and turned it

over

said something

and when

she asked me

“where’re ‘ya from, dear?”

that was it

poor woman

had no idea

“I’m sorry …

you remind me …

of granny …”

TL