Saturday Morning

painful as an embedded sliver in my palm
I am reminiscing on the pasts of others
careening over photographs of places I have never been
a near memorization of sideways smiles and goofy grins.

Where are my similar reflections?
the documentation that I, too, existed somewhere between then and now?

3.14.09
JMG

Once upon a time there was a singing G

Josephine resting
finally
at peace in our home.
Her sloping reddish brown back facing out,
scrolling neck leaning delicately against the corner.

I think about how I will play her –
my fingers becoming easily sore
nails needing to be clipped back
we’ve both been for a long time been in hibernation.

11.17.2008
JMG