Maple Creemees & Refills

I thoroughly enjoyed my first Bookstock Festival in Woodstock, VT, this weekend! I attended poetry readings, presentations on marketing and selling your book, conversations with women storytellers, and reducing the stigma of mental illness through writing. I love Vermont, expanding my community of fellow writers, and eating maple creemees for lunch! I heard today that blogs are kind of passé. Go figure—just when I start to get the hang of it Oh well, I’m enjoying my artistic growth. With all this, how could I not be inspired to write a poem today?

Refills

Has another week gone by?

My pill box confirms so.

It needs to be refilled.

I reluctantly pull the gallon Ziploc bag

from the vanity drawer

filled with a collage of

pill bottles

Some over the counter

Some prescription medications

Way more than I ever imagined

not even at the age of 96.

I am only 56.

Will I see 76?

I go to the kitchen and

take my inhalers

Counting down # of doses remaining

More days of breathing relief

and days of a good life

One can only hope.

Days filled with

Writing words in various forms

like this one

or fiction

which this clearly is not.

Creating images

with vibrant paint choices

fresh and familiar brush strokes

expression wins.

Minutes filled with

Shuffling and turning over cards,

sequencing in hopes of the most points

to peg ahead

gaining the lead

Not to win the game necessarily

but to see him sulk a little

then celebrate a lot

when he wins.

Seconds filled with

my granddaughters’

touch

Their weight in my arms

Connecting with them

and I win.

These fill me

giving me hope,

strength,

Perspective,

and appreciation for life

Refills remain.