Welcome to Four Lines! I have a goal I would like to write at least four lines of poetry or a haiku every day for the rest of my life. I'm excited about this challenge! Also, along with my daily poem, I will be reading at least four lines of another author's poetry. I'll try to include that here also. So I'm thinking - how difficult can it be to read and then write one poem a day? We will see! - Claudia

All poems on this blog, unless noted, are written by Claudia Callaghan.
© 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016 Claudia Callaghan
Used only with permission. Please feel free to join Four Lines and request permission.

Friday, March 8, 2013

Wally looks behind as he walks
at stenciled tracks that are his own,
fleeting marks of water, ice and snow -
water, cracking ice, and snow
he joys in stepping through.
I pointed his footprints out to him.
Once a footnote in our journey, 
now they are in every chapter, of every day,
in every chapter of every day
as is music and tea.

Earl Grey or chamomile?
Maple syrup or brown sugar?
Vanilla soy milk or 2 percent?
Wally points to Earl Grey, brown sugar and soy milk.
At the table I follow him,
stirring my tea into a whirl before each slurp and sip. 
He follows me, clinking our cups. 
He always smiles as we clink cups.
We stir, clink, smile, slurp and sip through tea.

I think while in the rocking chair,
Wally is a shining, rocking star.
He sits on the couch tuning his radio 
to our favorite station, Kool 108. 
We listen, rocking back and forth,
in perfect rhythm, song after song -
song after song, back and forth.
I sing too, laugh, tap my toes, 
sometimes conducting notes in the air.
Wally glances at me,
seeing happiness pouring out of me 
at happiness pouring out of him.

Wally is Mary's music man
and she, his sister, truer than blood.
She tells me of her dream last night,
while I put my coat, hat, and mittens on.
Wally and she were in conversation!
"Wally was talking!  We were speaking to each other!"
"Really? Mary, that's so wonderful!"
"I don't remember what he said.
I woke up and cried -
realizing Wally's talking was only a dream."
A beautiful, wishful dream.




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