Author: Tamiko Lowery

The Unexpected Gift

yesterday

there was sand

all over the putting green

and the holes

had all disappeared

and over yonder

the chipping green

was the same

way

it was maintenance day

but I didn’t get the memo

got in my car

and went to another green

and putted

a few putts

before the thunder

took over

I love golf

but it’s not worth

getting struck by lightning

for it

which would be my luck

really don’t know

what I’d do without golf

at this point

and I would have never

tried it

even considered it

if it weren’t for my daughter

she was 5

hitting balls on the range

when a pro pulled me aside

and said she had the gift

don’t let her quit

well, that’s all it took

I had her signed up for lessons

before the sun set

and over the years

I watched her develop

taking the club back

and bringing it forward

into this beautiful

beautiful swing

she made it look

so effortless

I’d stand behind her

watching

as the ball blurred

out of sight

I can still see her

barefoot

on the putting green

the clouds pink overhead

I’m so grateful to all the pros

who taught her

how to play

this amazing

wonderful game

that teaches you

all about life

and the power

of now

TL

An American Korean

T a m i k o

is not my name

Tamiko is a Japanese name

I am not  Japanese

although I was called, “Jap”

growing up

I’m not  Japanese

I was raised white

but I’m not white

I’m Korean

but I don’t feel  Korean

I feel American

I speak only English

I write only English

but I look Asian

with almond eyes

and black hair

and tan skin

I don’t quite

fit in

if I want Korean food

I go to a Korean restaurant

and order it

like I did today

if I’m curious

about the Korean culture

I look online

like I did today

I have ancestors

but know none of them

and the older I get

the harder that is

to accept

my daughter

is the only

blood relative

I will ever know

she is my heart

and my Seoul

TL

(written in 2017)

The Greens

almost there

then a splat

and another splat

splat, splat, splat

put the wipers on

and park

and wait it out

it’s like

there’s the green

right there

in front of me

boundless and beautiful

but there’s this wall

of rain

relentless

that the weather app

failed to predict

and the humidity in the air

would electrocute my hair

if it ever stops

pouring

been raining steady

for days and days and days

and normally don’t mind

it

but there are times

hard times

when I don’t want

to play

I need to play

want and need

are two very very

different things

like love

and like

TL

A Tree Without Leaves

it’s raining

outside my window

the sunlight

shines through

the trees

like strings

at Christmas

twinkling

I wish it were

snow

and all was winter

white

untouched

but it never snows

in July

the water’s warm

I should be floating

away somewhere

as light as a leaf

down the river

following the flow

far from the tree

and its tangled roots

a tiny boat

sailing

across the sea

in a shimmering

of diamonds

weightless

nobody knows

the leaf

was once attached

to a lofty limb

its job

was waving

at the tourists

for a tree with no leaves

looks lifeless

and gray

like spring got lost

in winter

and forgot about summer

for fall

the leaf no longer green

and waving

fell into the wind

and found its way

to the shore

where all boats

begin again

TL

Why

hmmmmm

what is

the purpose

of pain …

there’s no hiding

in a hole

from it

it finds us

whoever we are

wherever we are

no matter the age

rich or poor

whether we’re ready or not

it’s coming for us

it can be the most beautiful day

or not

doesn’t matter the day of week

the year

the hour

the minute

the second

it’s there

taking form

taking shape

quietly

becoming

sometimes it’s a slow burn

other times

it smacks ‘ya dead

in the face

kicks ‘ya when you’re down

and out

like love

there are different levels

of it

the longer you live

the more you’ll experience

both joy

and pain

the deeper the joy

the deeper the pain

when tragic things happen

you wonder

why

why did it have to be

that hard

I can remember

being a child

and asking myself

that question

over and over

and over again

why

I’m older now

at the halfway point

and still

internally

externally

eternally

I’m asking

the same question

why

TL

Gone Global

here I am

at the keys

the world has

gone mad

maybe it always was

and we didn’t know it none

‘cause nobody really showed it

24/7

365 days

season to season

now everywhere ‘ya go

heads are down

and they ain’t praying

they’re scrolling an endless feed

on their never-leave-home-without-it-trusty-cell

phone

I’m not knocking technology per-se

I love Google and YouTube and Netflix

just as much as the next guy

but in increments of time

where ‘ya step away

get up and get out

as ‘ya get older and older and older

it becomes valuable

this ticking thing called

TIME

in a way you didn’t quite get

when you were 16

or in your 20s, 30s,

40s

I look over at 93

sleeping sound

that’s all he’s got now

in his control

is shut-eye

dreaming way up high

on a John Deere

or driving his ‘ole pick-up truck

with his little dog riding shot-gun

if the pandemic taught us anything about anything

at all

it taught us an ounce

of appreciation

for the little things in life

that are big

for a hot second

we were all elderly

or behind bars

locked away

behind a mask

now everybody’s angry about

something or another

or too sad to care

one way or the other

what do ‘ya tell the children

coming up

how do ‘ya protect ‘em

from it all

‘ya can’t

they’re gonna have to be

strong

mentally strong

right outta the gate

to make it

or else

they’re gonna be down

and out

before the bell

even rings

there has to be a foundation

a belief in their being

and all they’re capable of

to leave the world

better

than they found it

in some small way

that adds up

and ripples out

like a drop

of rain

TL

The Coroner

he died

by the lull

of the sea

somewhere

in his sleep

too soon

to enjoy

days in the sun

when the job

was finally

finally

finally

done

and put to rest

left

to another’s hands

for all the comfort

he gave

to a stranger

hurting

25 years of tears

he shed

as he drove his truck

away

from countless

scenes

images that wouldn’t

let him be

of unthinkable things

that happen

day

and night

as the seasons

turn

like the last cry

of a newborn babe

left in a sewer

to die

a

l

o

n

e

he made sure

the baby had a name

a proper burial

a blessing

…

you mattered

little one

and you’ll always, always

have a home …

TL

Letting Go

by the third

day

the dirt

was dust

the clouds

held back

the rain

all the roses

bled out

back to seed

the leaves fell

before fall

sticks stuck

in the desert

it was all a mirage

the well was dry

only fools search

the depths

for gold

believing emerald cities

actually exist

in some forsaken

corner

of the world

where the sea

meets the moon

mirrored in waves

and the stars float up

from the sky

leaving a stone

in its wake

TL

The Good Son

and in the evenings

he heads

down the road

to the pasture

unchanged

where the horses

can hear him come

before he ever steps

outta the truck

taking care of ‘em

has helped him heal

their quiet strength

centers him

he can go and tell ‘em

anything

and everything

or nothing

at all …

it didn’t matter

what he said

or didn’t say

they knew

they could feel it

in the tremble of his hand

in the silent stream

in the bowed head

he didn’t have to try

and hide it

or hold it

in the dusk

the heat or the rain

cold or wind

season to season

out there

on the range

feeding the horses

he’s just a boy

who misses his Mama

and aches for his Daddy

and just wants to make ‘em

proud

TL

Wherewithal

she was

born

without

a mother

of ease

or ignorance

or the luxury of means

for an orphan

bore her

one raised

behind a door

behind the eye of a child

witnessing the worst

of human weakness

the humility of hatred

the rage that knows no bounds

the loneliness of self-reliance

the betrayal of trust and safety

the abuse of position and power

the loss of what it means

to be little

but even an orphan knows the truth

that there’s always a choice …

before a tone turns deafening

before a hand becomes a weapon

before a drink becomes a poison

before a room becomes a prison

before a mask becomes a monster

before it’s too late for sorry

for someday

no apology can change

past transgressions

and the orphan lies awake at night

wondering

if the child she bore

will ever understand

what it is

to be free

truly free

to fly

above the cloud

and touch the color

taste the rain

feel the ray

see the blue

and know

that even when

the sky turns

and lightning burns the clouds black

and not a breath of wind can ease the ache

and not a drop of rain can reach the eye

and not a note of song can find the tree

let there be

but a remembering

of good things

that within the enormity

of loss

there is the smallness

of a word kept kind

that when felt

becomes gold

a gold greater than wealth

greater than all possession

all power

all greed

greater

still

TL

Adjustment

as I await

her return …

it occurs

to me

I am thus

forevermore

accustomed

to await

her return …

as I am

thus

in this

moment

solitaire

TL

Under the Stars

a cloud inside

a cloud

soft like cotton

sifting

the rain aching

to fall

but the blue won’t

turn gray

the light burns

behind the eye

it’s all gone

like waking

from a dream

you don’t remember

Dorothy in a field of red poppies

is anything in our control

being born

being buried

burned

the sea keeps reaching

closer

and closer

and closer

whether you’re ready

or not

we go

u

n

d

e

r

disappearing

from sight

and if only

you were loved

were you known

and if only

you loved

were you here

it’s not enough

to just

go through

to get by

to show up

when the dust settles

and all is quiet

know I loved you

more than this life

my darling, my dear

my yittle boo

my purpose

was you

it was always

you

(written on the beach May 13, 2022)

TL

Under the Sky

after

the candles

burn out

and what’s said is said

and the line

of people

go home

and the silence sets in

and the reality

becomes real

of what was

and what is

closes in

and there’s nowhere to go

but inward

the journey then begins

for those

left

who were not ready

not prepared

not yet

to bury

their love

but because they loved

their loved one so

they lived

a complete life

however long

however short

there is no other purpose

for a mortal being

than to love

and be loved

little children

know this

and teach us

what it is

to love

and be loved

TL

Young Love

don’t know

why

they call it

a breakup

when it’s actually

a breakdown

there’s nothing up

about it

ask any

one

who ever loved

and let go …

and went on

to live …

a different life

what it’s like

and when you’re young

still trying

to find your feet

and figure out

how to stand

on your own

that first break

first ache

first farewell

can feel un

bearable

like you’ll never be

h

a

p

p

y

again

some say

it’s not real

when you’re a teen

ager

but a young person

feels things

deeply

especially a sensitive soul

it’s not wise

to dismiss

that first welling

in the early years

for anything

other than

what it is

you are changed

inside

in a way that stays

with you

as you age

and each time

there’s a break

up

it’s a break

down

TL

The Hunt

i scurry

outta bed

gotta go hide the eggs

painted pastels

but the basket’s empty

i look everywhere for the eggs

but all i find are pieces

crushed and chipped

like tiny tiles

i try to find which piece

goes where

i pick one up

and put it down

years go by

did anybody ever find

the golden egg …

was it worth it

all that work

all that time

it took

searching

for a piece of plastic

with something good inside

can somebody tell me

if it was worth it

anybody

wait, what …

what did you say

I said, how do you like your eggs

scrabbled

fried

poached

hard boiled

sunny-side up

or over easy

but I don’t even eat eggs

then why you here

looking for eggs

i don’t know

i was hungry

i guess

well, look for something else

there’s more than eggs

on the menu …

I’ll come back

when you’re ready

TL

Poster Poem

“if you

L

O

V

E

some

thing

set it

free …

if it

comes back

to you

it’s yours

if it

doesn’t

it never

was …”

Richard Bach

Tiger Woods Returns …

to the pristine greens

of Augusta

in the Spring of 2022

on the heels

of his World Golf Hall of Fame

induction

Tiger Woods

has shown

no

he’s not done

one solitary step

at a time

he makes his way around

getting up and down

having journeyed

so far

internally

for the love of the game

the feeling

a feeling like

none other

TL

Going Through

she’ll be

16 soon

and I’d like to say

I’m ok with it

that I’m fine

that I don’t mind

that it’s nothing

just a part of life

part of growing up

and out

I see all these kids

she went to pre-school with

get in their cars

their trucks

their Jeeps

and take off

and I wanna cry

I just wanna sit there and cry

but I just wave

and smile

and watch ‘em go by

all these bright beautiful butterflies

by the time you get to this point

as a parent

it’s a lot

don’t kid yourself

that it’s not

TL

Only if … you Let it

life has

a way

of sanding you

into shape

each heartbreaking moment

chisels you

deeper

into something

you weren’t prepared to be

or feel

or accept

it is a painful process

that ages you

when you experience

a tragic thing

like loss

or betrayal

or self-sabotage

you have no choice

what’s done is done

all you know for sure

is how much it hurt

and i wonder if this makes you

less willing

to try

next time

or the next

or the next

do you hesitate now

think things through

less trusting

less open

less willing

to move

are you lessened by life

or extended by it

do you let your mind lead

never the heart

keep the heart locked

cautious

controlled

contained

you refrain

avoid

become inaccessible

guarded

nobody gets through the gate

the pigeon has flown

no trace

an old lion now paces

back and forth

at the gate

TL

First and Last

swept some dew

drop

diamonds

and put ‘em

in my pocket

pretending

it ain’t really

all that bad

picked up my magic

wand

and found a green

that accepts me

as i am

in the quiet

of a song

i listen and learn

wrote so many

in my mind

the moon split in half

one hangs high in the sky

the other fell flat

on its face

there’s always a price

a ransom

a deposit

some say love is free

methinks they never knew

love at all

or had a clue

an inkling

a grain

there was no weeping

in the willows

for not a one

of ‘em

as they stood in their shiny silver shoes

on the bank of the mountain

afraid of the mud

the muck

it is a soiled rotten wretched thing

to love

to let love take you

in such a way

as this

complete

people pick and choose

the parts of love

they like

and leave the rest

behind

nobody wants a dead rose

the fresh fragrance gone

the color drained from face

petals crumbling underfoot

it’s easy to admire a blooming beginning

not so much

the fallen flower

curled up

and gone

but the wind

in its wild ways

gave it its first breath

before it ever blossomed beauty

and ruffled its layers

sending its scent

into the ether

in the sway

the gentle sway

it let the flower rest

and rise

wipe its eyes

and when the petals

were too weak

to hold on

a moment more

the wind in its infinite wisdom

lifted each up

and carried ‘em

to the water’s edge

and let ‘em

find their way

in

and the water

sighed

in its ripples

reaching out

for it had been waiting

so long

all along

for the rose

to finally return

to its center

the center of its being

its becoming

its belonging

but first

it had to let go …

of the stem

it’d been clinging

and be fearless

to fall

a

w

a

y

TL