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Archive for May, 2015

What Might They Grow

Posted in Uncategorized on May 10, 2015| 1 Comment »

in the garden row
tamping in snowflakes
beside carrot seeds

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Aspiring

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 10, 2015| 3 Comments »

My mother’s hands are now
my hands—blue cords
of veins, brown thinning skin,
the fingerpads rough from gardening,
and dirt in the fingernails.
My hands, like hers, raise on their own
to gently touch a loved one’s cheek,
to pull the hair away from their eyes,
and to pull the loved one close.
These hands love to make pie
and do puzzles and pinch back dead flowers.
These hands are seldom still.
I do not know how to read a palm,
but I can read her story here
in these hands that were taught
to love the world, to stay open,
to find bells that long to be rung
and to ring them, these hands,
they are her hands, what a gift
to confuse them, to use them
as if they were hers.

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Mother’s Day Poems

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 9, 2015| 2 Comments »

Three poems in honor of mothers, pulled from the last year, published today in Telluride Inside … and Out.

The first is for children, the second is about traditions passed on from mother to daughter and on, and the third is about the terrible, wonderful truth that we become our mothers. I got pretty lucky on that count … I have an amazing mom. Thanks, Mom!

http://www.tellurideinside.com/2015/05/poetss-corner-3-for-mothers-day-from-rosemerry-trommer.html

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On Waking

Posted in Uncategorized on May 9, 2015| 1 Comment »

The grass was already greener
come morning, rain-soaked and spring crazy.
I had forgotten, somehow,
it was no longer winter.
I had forgotten, even,
that I was a woman.
Oh grass, why did you have to go
and remind me. It was so lovely
for that moment to be nothing,
to be no one at all, to not be snared
in all this rushing forward
toward relentless blooming,
toward this insistent ripening.
I didn’t even remember
the word trust.

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Telluride Literary Arts Festival May 14-17

Posted in Uncategorized on May 8, 2015| 1 Comment »

Join us for hikes, workshops, performances, awards, poetry film, poetry set to music, literary burlesque, dancing, open mic and more!

http://telluridelitfest.weebly.com/schedule.html

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One Definition of Friendship

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , on May 8, 2015| 5 Comments »

two women swimming
naked with each other
nothing to hide—
mud puddles turn to oceans
and the water’s still rising

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No Need to Say More

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on May 6, 2015| 2 Comments »

You know, she says, how in the movies
sometimes things are really bad
and you think they can’t get worse,
but then they get worse?
My daughter is telling me
about something that happened
to a penguin spy.
Yeah, I say, it’s like that
in real life, too.
No, she says, I mean the movies,
the way you think it can’t
get worse, but it does.
Yeah, I say, sometimes
it’s like that in real life, too.
She looks at me, as if I
just don’t understand,
and grabs me by the hand
to go into the bakery.
There’s a chocolate chip cookie there
just waiting for her.

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While Feeling Betrayed by a Friend

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on May 5, 2015| 6 Comments »

My son cuts the rhubarb while I
hull the strawberries. We sing
scales and talk about hacking.
That’s a lot of sugar, he says,
as he pours the measuring cup
into the mixing bowl. I think
of all the things I wish I could sweeten.
Just today, I kept returning
to the same bitter views.
It was like touching a bruise
to be sure it still hurts.
It still hurts. I think about how
the Dalai Lama might tell me,
go ahead. Pick up the burning coals
and throw them at the man
you think deserves them. Of course
the only hand to get hurt is mine,
but all day, I reach for the coals,
even now as my son and I
turn our talk to growing things.
This summer, we’ll harvest
our own rhubarb stalks after waiting
for three full years. I try to turn
my thoughts toward sweetnesses.
My boy. The honey of singing.
The way that the ground brings forth
what is green and vital,
year after year after year.
The pie fills the house
with a wonderful scent
as it bakes, the marriage
of sharp and sugar. You can’t
bake a pie without fire, I think.
I leave the coals where they are.

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Misunderstanding

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , on May 4, 2015| 1 Comment »

The two bull elk in the yard startled
when I walked out the front door.
They stared at me as I stared at them.
Though I stepped quiet and slow
in a different direction, they turned and ran
into the trees. How could they be
so frightened of me? Ah, of course.
Perhaps I am the one who does not
understand my power.

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Woman and Field

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , on May 3, 2015| 2 Comments »

Mom, he says,
it’s been raining and sunny,
and do you think the morels
are up yet? We go walking in the field
where we’ve found them before,
but they are not there.

How many times do I walk
in my mind to the places
I’ve found some sense of purpose
or conviction, only to find them empty?

Finn finds a rabbit’s foot in the field,
the leg bone still attached.
It’s lucky, Mom, he says.
We leave it where it is
and let the luck follow us if it will.

And perhaps it does. Today,
everywhere I turn in my mind
I fail to find the answers I want.
But what shows up is a softness,
a fertile field in the unknown where I can rest.
It feels rainy and sunny at the same time.
I can almost feel something deep
inside pushing its way up to the surface
ready to be found in its own time.

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