run on sentences

Toby and I ran today Clouds and daffodils The smell of lilacs air made clean by social distancing And my dad, I sense him near, Led the way on this perfect day A gentle rain came from those innocent clouds Splattered on the pavement  Toby shook it off As dogs do, didn't seem to notice Wet hair don’t care -soggy shoes  Spotted sunglasses All a small price to pay  For the smell of grateful trees and grass The smell of my dad Flannel shirt and sawdust collected in the cuffs of his pants And later spilled on my mom's kitchen floor His eyes, blue like the sky mirrored his apologies The sun peeked out   I looked for a rainbow And found it in the open tulips

“All in good time, my pretty, all in good time” The wicked witch said to Dorothy “All in good time” I tell you this now: Do not become frustrated by the mistakes From that complicated pattern Blue and green,  an aurora borealis. yarn from New Zealand 30% possum fur and 70%  wool picked out by your grandsons. Eventually it will be a beautiful shawl But first you must plow through unknown stitches Made clearer by you tube videos Watched over and over till you get it Tangled yarns  Main color versus contrasting Carrying one up the side, don't confuse them. May you have patience to continue,  to fix mistakes To finish Your struggles will turn into something beautiful But not today.

Sunday coffee at 230, I miss you I miss choosing a place,  my friend and I taking turns Trying to find the perfect cup.   She with her house coffee, black Me with my grande latte Complaining about the people who take up tables  with their laptops and homework But we  also envy them just a little We guiltily share the 450 calorie pink frosted cookie Talking about our retired lady weeks The coffee place are all empty now  Chairs on tables, no cookies The silent espresso machine no longer hissing out steam. I drink my coffee home alone on Sundays now Reheating it later in the day but it is not the same. When they let us out may we not complain  about the people and their laptops But be happy they are back  Will they be masked? Will the pink frosting cookies be allowed? We will allow them and each have our own May there be no guilt in 450 calories May the espresso machine steam out it’s joy

I am grateful for the gummy bears And the  unknown person who places them  Alone or in groups along the railing Overlooking the melted snow waters  Of the creek below Red, green, yellow, white, sometimes a few, And sometimes many, gathered or scattered Waiting for me to run by with my dog Toby Good for you for being out here, they say With their sticky mouths and high pitched voices I miss them when they are not there Sometimes there is only one and I am sad Where is his family and why is he alone?   Did the wind blow the others into the creek Were they eaten by dogs? Did they dive off in despair? But then they return in different colors  Sometimes in non bear shapes, just lumps In a circular arrangement on a nearby rock with a big  red cinnamon bear in the middle As if leading a meditation  Or giving instructions for some unknown task Does someone snea...

Okay boomer You snuck up on me Just like my years I protest though And run half marathons On wrinkled, sturdy legs  My mother’s legs This hair is natural, never dyed, not gray (but I would let it be gray if it wanted) I am invisible in my sadness May you see me Not as my years and senior discount And early grocery shopping hours Ruining the economy Taking up ventilators That could save someone younger My life matters too

The earth moved the other day You were alone and probably afraid That and Coronavirus threatening to  Change the world and leave children w ithout grandparents Know that you are not really alone There is enough toilet paper for everyone Accept the help that is offered you And give what you can Let what is good touch your soul Let the world be there  Without being present Accept its gifts and still be grateful Walk your little dog And wear those tie dyed leggings  You thought were too young for you Bake those cookies and promise the tulips That spring will come

Mary Alice (second from left) and her Ruth's circle ladies. My friend and one of my Church Girls, Mary Alice, died on March 1. She had just moved to an assisted living facility and this seemed like a final insult. The following is the eulogy I wrote for her and read at her funeral. There is so much to say about my friend Mary Alice Breitling and how she lived her life right into her time to die. . She taught me so much about living into your years, acceptance of your limitations, and how to die.  She also taught me that no woman should ever be caught without lipstick. Two days before she died, she had lipstick on those pretty heart shaped lips of hers.    I met Mary Alice when I first started going to church and didn’t know a lot of people. I usually   sat next to two  ladies -Thelma and Velda.   One Sunday a tall lady dressed in pink, which later I found out was her favorite color, with beautiful porcelain skin and a cloud of wh...