It’s Your Song

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Are you comfortable with the company you keep?

the skin that you wear?

the decisions you make –

the great ones, the good ones

the bad ones and,

even the terrible ones?

Do you accept the wrinkles,

the imperfections,

the bones of your being?

I hope so.

This is your life.

Your song.

And only you can sing it.

 

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Discouraging but Deserving

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I like looking at my teach, Mrs. Alexander, at her nice smile and her fancy dress. I keep picturing my mother getting to wear a dress like that someday.

Right before it’s time to go home, Mrs. Alexander starts to teach us a new song called “Home on the Range”.

Oh give me a home, where the antelope roam and the deer and the antelope play. Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word and the skies are not cloudy all day. How often at night, where the heavens are bright with the light of the glittering stars, have I stood there amazed and asked as I gazed if their glory exceeds that of ours. Home, home on the range….

I like those words. They make me feel almost as good as when I’m riding on ol’ Polo, free and easy like deer and antelope playing together without any bickering.

I like it that she tells us what the words mean, words like “discouraging.” She says that “discouraging” means that you don’t like something much, like something makes you feel uncomfortable, something that spoils your spirit.

So now I can say, that “Home on the Range” is my new favorite song. I can also say that recess today, sure was discouraging. But damn, sticking that pocketknife in Tommy Burn’s bully thigh sure felt good. He’s deserved it for a coon’s age.

Maybe there are a few clouds today after all.

 

Excerpt of No Hill for a Stepper by C. Dennis-Willingham

 

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Set to Square

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My Frigidaire’s in disrepair

the water’s leaking everywhere

My husband, well, he’s unaware

He’s napping in his underwear.

I tell myself, “do not despair.”

There must be food I can prepare

something fresh, a peach or pear?

Poor Fridge, it’s had it’s wear and tear

this in common, this we share

But I will act most debonair

when I wake up my sleeping bear

still with stance that’s set to square

and tell him he must fetch our fare

(“yes, now go and do your share”)

then waving just one hand in flair

I’ll sit upon my outdoor chair,

paint my nails with greater care

then catch a snooze mid-air.

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– C. Dennis-Willingham ©

 

painting by Kay Crain

(I love this piece of art)

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