HomePlace: short poems written in 3 different groups

 by some members of the Tuesday Morning Writing Circle

Buffalo, New York
our home
a liberal haven
    - Gabrielle Vehar

Buffalo, New York
my wonderful father —
a snowplowin' machine
    - Gabrielle Vehar

Buffalo, New York
sailing on the lake
before it became polluted
    - Gabrielle Vehar

Newark, New York
not Newark, New Jersey
misdirected mail until zipcodes
    - Kim Falstick

Homer
large Victorian houses on main street
rural poverty too
    - Lottie Sweeney

Homer
my backyard
where the willow tree once stood
    - Lottie Sweeney

Homer
frog pond farm
scrap metal sculptures
Tim Burton would admire
    - Lottie Sweeney

Greensburg, Kansas
main tourist attraction:
the world's largest hand-dug well
    - Marty Blue Waters

Greensburg, Kansas
the town redistributed into other counties —
a big honcho tornado
    -Marty Blue Waters

Greensburg, Kansas
no longer feels like home
without the old landmarks
    - Marty Blue Waters

Ithaca
the House of Shalimar —
one-stop shopping for
turquoise jewelry, rolling papers,
gauze shirts, and indian bedspreads
    - Paula Culver

Ithaca
i go into mourning
David Bowie cancels his concert
my sister and i walk — procession style —
down the commons
our black dresses dragging
black veils covering our faces
    - Paula Culver

Ithaca
i come home to myself
after all these years
    - Paula Culver

Pennsylvania farm
sledding down the hill
on the manure shovel
    - Sue Norvell

Pennsylvania farm
on my belly inspecting clover
aha – four leaves!
    - Sue Norvell

Pennsylvania farm
she plants a riot of zinnias
he sees only greys — color blind
    - Sue Norvell

Highland Park, New Jersey
parents play alongside their kids
in front of the houses
    - Sue Perlgut

Highland Park, New Jersey
we kids have our own world
building houses and stores in vacant lots
    - Sue Perlgut

Highland Park, New Jersey
i'm sure there was a high school cheer
but i don't remember it
    - Sue Perlgut

the Bronx
some girls get princess phones
i do not
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
the answer is always no
i'll never get to wear nylon stockings
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
i discover that olives
make excellent finger puppets
    - Zee Zahava

===

by some members of the Wednesday Morning Writing Circle


Denver
High Holy Days in the Rockies
mom says there we were closer to God
    - Alison Taren

Denver
I always knew which way was west
here, I'm always lost
    - Alison Taren

Denver
new math taught in public schools
now I need a calculator
    - Alison Taren

Cayutaville, New York
biking after dark
I don't wear a helmet
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

Cayutaville, New York
convertibles zoom by
too many to be a coincidence
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

Cayutaville, New York
empty playroom
now full of memories and trinkets
    - Caroline Gates-Lupton

Yorktown Heights
walking to the orthodontist
avoiding the boys on the corner
    - Christine Sanchirico

Yorktown Heights
secret shortcut through the woods
everyone knew where it was
    - Christine Sanchirico

Yorktown Heights
front lawns manicured and tidy
I plant corn
    - Christine Sanchirico

Cleveland
worst winter blizzard in decades
i can't breathe when i walk
    - Elizabeth Burns

Cleveland
my first visit to a deli
salami on rye
    - Elizabeth Burns

Cleveland
riding the rapid transit on Saturdays
to the West Side Market
    - Elizabeth Burns

Bay Ridge, Brooklyn
stand at the rear of the ferry
white foam swirling
    - Fran Helmstadter

Bay Ridge, Brooklyn
along Shore Road
we bicycled to Coney Island
    - Fran Helmstadter

Bay Ridge, Brooklyn
Norwegian bakery on Saturdays
deep breaths of rich crumb cake
    -Fran Helmstadter

the river
the call of loons, coyotes, a farmer's cow
I wake to the sound of power tools
    - Hilary Fraser

the river
seventeen rows of clouds
stretch to the horizon
    - Hilary Fraser

the river
looking over my toes in bed
I see Canada
    - Hilary Fraser

Queens, New York
no car
walk to the bus then the subway
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

Queens, New York
our neighbor, a theater critic
excited after seeing "My Fair Lady"
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

Queens, New York
my brother and I share
black and white malteds
at the corner drug store
25 cents
    - Madeleine Cohen Oakley

West Newbury, Vermont
the old cemetery
sad little children's graves
    - Mary Louise Church

West Newbury, Vermont
the general store
Lawrence Tyler's wandering hands
    - Mary Louise Church

West Newbury, Vermont
the Tyler farm
the huge white bull
    - Mary Louise Church

West Hempstead, Long Island
looking out the kitchen window
mom bathes me in the sink
    - Rainbow Crow

West Hempstead, Long Island
smoking in the ravine with friends
accidentally burning down the driving range
    - Rainbow Crow

West Hempstead, Long Island
destroying my brand new bike
demolition derby
    - Rainbow Crow

Fargo
seven tornadoes
me, safe in her womb
    - Ross Haarstad

Fargo
train whistles at night
rumbling track lullaby
    - Ross Haarstad

Fargo
the Red River
is muddy green
    - Ross Haarstad


Silver Lake
the crooked tree in the yard
Grandma told us to encourage it
    - Susanna Drbal

Silver Lake
swans in the pen
buckets of rotting lettuce
    - Susanna Drbal

Silver Lake
tipping the sailboat
stuck on a sandbar
    - Susanna Drbal

the Bronx
men place bets in the candy store
off limits to children
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
my younger sister, my mother, and i
identical dresses
a woman on the subway asks
if we are triplets
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
my father mistakes the Patty Play Pal doll
for my sister . . .
excuse me darling he says
after bumping into it
    - Zee Zahava


==

by some members of the Thursday Morning Writing Circle

New Jersey
still rural and fresh
the woods are my home
    - Annie Wexler

New Jersey
I am 10
young men go off to Korea
    - Annie Wexler

New Jersey
"don't go to the pool"
polio panic haunts my mother
    - Annie Wexler

Barrie, Ontario
the smell of pancakes in an electric frying pan
I eat mine with lemon and sugar
    - Barbara Cartwright

Barrie, Ontario
doing the dishes with my mother
explaining the poetry of Simon & Garfunkel
    - Barbara Cartwright

Barrie, Ontario
listening to Brahms with earphones
my mind traveling far beyond our living room
    - Barbara Cartwright

Long Beach, Long Island
strolled on the boardwalk every day
ocean singing in my infant ears
    - Mara Alper

Valley Stream, Long Island
the grass grows too tall one summer
we frolic like leopards
    - Mara Alper

Valley Stream, Long Island
she is mad at us, threatens with the belt
but never uses it, never ever
    - Mara Alper

Nyack, New York
looking for hawks migrating south
over the Hudson
    - Michael Shaff

Nyack, New York
my first job, mowing grass at a state park
I run over a copperhead snake
    - Michael Shaff

Etna, New York
the duck pond
bullets fly overhead
    - Michael Shaff

Johnson City
at 12 we hang out at the mall
at 17 we work there
    - Stacey Murphy

Johnson City
no one questions Columbus Day
on the way to the parade
    - Stacey Murphy

Choconut Center
my mom in a witch costume
scaring trick-or-treaters home
    - Stacey Murphy

Knapp Creek
Bobbie Lawson and I compete
to be the best at softball
    - Sue Crowley

Knapp Creek
winter, my body numb
I stand over the heat grate as mom peels away wet clothes
    - Sue Crowley

San Diego
dad lifts me to his shoulders
we march into the high waves
    - Sue Crowley

Denton, Texas
June bugs buzz and float
upside down in the yellow porch light
    - Susan Lesser

Denton, Texas
garden roses bloom
father stoops to smell their perfume
    - Susan Lesser

Denton, Texas
mother gazes out at the distant horizon
she misses Canada
    - Susan Lesser

Flushing, Queens
mostly I stayed inside
dreaming of other places
    - Yvonne Fisher

Flushing, Queens
the painting of the Arc De Triomphe
in our shabby living room
    - Yvonne Fisher

Flushing, Queens
we went to the movies
the ceiling filled with stars
    - Yvonne Fisher

the Bronx
that bad man in the button store
flirts with my mother
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
after the blizzard
men on our block take turns with the shovel
    - Zee Zahava

the Bronx
dad grows a beard
i stop kissing him
    - Zee Zahava

Autumn, by Jayne Demakos

It's not that I don't love autumn. I want to convince her that I 
do — the way my soul takes on the interior golden hue; the crisp chill and the simple need for a sweater; the husks of leaves collecting daily. Once green up there — those youngins — now old caskets turning to dust under my feet down here - on the street, on the pavement. I love these things! They are the familiar rhymes of poems that have always made sense to me. But my bones remember the menopause of winter. Barren skeletons of trees against the steely mirror of the sky and my marrow freezes, anticipates the chill of death when God is forgotten. The fire is out and water runs cold from the faucet. It's time to collect my friends. My birthday is coming and it's always the rallying call each year. Halloween, All Soul’s Day, Day of the Dead. Come, let us go into winter together. Light a fire in the middle of our circle. The central hearth that has always kept us warm.