Family

When she was little

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At bed time when I was little,

I stood on his feet to brush my teeth.

When she was little,

she stood on my feet to brush her teeth.

Just now, her son who is little,

stood on my feet to brush his teeth.

When I was little we had pillow fights

When she was little we had pillow fights

With her son, we had a small pillow fight

I was read to,

I read to,

Tonight I read some of the same words again.

I fussed,

She fussed,

He fussed,

I fell, she fell, now he fell,

with her/his head on my shoulder,

to sleep.

I got kisses, she got kisses.

he got kisses.

Life goes on, and I am thrilled

to have been in all these parts

My mom would ask if I was asleep.

My wife would ask if they were asleep.

Now, his mother just called to see if he is asleep,

and if not to say goodnight.

Life goes on in a big circle

and I am thrilled to have played, to play my part.

© Words by Daniel DeMarle 11/22/24

Voyages

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While we started from the same place,

the same house, the same roof

quickly we started off on our own journeys

time is a thief

every day a step

from cradle to grave

some of our journeys have been harder than others

some have gone through quiet dark passages

some have seemed to always travel in the light

time is a thief

every day is a step

from cradle to grave

now occasionally we land in the same harbors

for a few hours, maybe a few days

At other times we send messages from different lands

time is a thief

every step is a step closer

from cradle to grave

Now sometimes we seem at times more like strangers

but sometimes we still see each other through the old light

that came in from that kitchen window

time is a thief

sooner than later the first will take that first step

from cradle to grave

© words by Daniel DeMarle 11/19/24

Canning time

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The water boils as I skin tomato,

after tomato, after tomato, after…

Some from the garden, some from the market

All of last year’s harvest long since canned and sealed away.

Only one jar remains, yet to be eaten.

This year’s canning has begun, the tomatoes,

gathered, many fallen in the fields,

fallen by blight before their time,

bleed into the jars,

their peeled skins tossed into the compost bag,

to be carried out, to help nurture future garden plots.

The fallen giving new life to future family needs.

 

The new jars sterile and clean, wait for the bodies.

They start empty, then line up with the collected remains,

a little Arlington on my kitchen counter.

Each ripe tomato having given its youth in the full service of …

The summer

 

Summers ending is not yet, but yet the fall begins.

When I was little, we would play, while,

Grandma, my mother and aunt would work,

in my grandmother’s A plus, all purpose basement.

Busy times, with food cooking upstairs in the kitchen,

and busy canning in the basement.

They worked together side by side,

filling canning jars together in a communal effort.

Did it bind us together? Did it do more than nurture our bodies?

Did that communal time of family conversation, bind us together as souls.

Souls gathered together at the edge of Fall, waiting for..

Waiting for the death that comes with winter?

Waiting together for the new birth that comes with Spring?

 

Its canning time, but where are my siblings and cousins?

Its canning time, but where is the community?

That community that used to work to sow, and harvest and prepare.

Prepare for the cold hard days that winter would and will bring.

If little boy blue were to blow his horn?

Would all the king’s horses and all the king’s men,

Rush back together to bring them all home?

Has fall and winter changed so much, or,

is it that today, that fruit from distant corners of the world,

has replaced those family ties,

replaced it with their genetically engineered sweetness, and..

and the illusion that the seasons do not matter.

That winter can be staved off, and that winter..

Winter is just a dusting of snow.

 

So blow your horn little boy blue.

And if they come.

If they come.

I will serve them gazpacho, while we peel, and can,

Bathe, peel, salt, and can.

and wait,

and wait,

for that soft sound that tells us an eternal bond has been sealed.

 

© Dan DeMarle 2014 – © photo taken by Dan DeMarle 2016