Whirligig # 329 / Writers' Pantry # 81

This week's words come from  Evanescent Earth by Maxwell Anderson

 

endless lonely seeks frail motes empty

drift helpless choked ride wild candle

wearying of endless lonely nights

a frail helpless woman is set adrift

alone in the world 

choked with sadness 

she seeks a soul mate

her empty life like a dust mote

in the storm is caught up in a wild ride

buffeted from pillar to post

 

she lights a candle in the church

listens to the organ playing

and finds a little comfort and joy

Whirligig # 328

This Week's Words  come from "Perennial" by R W Trommer

 find field bloom perfume fragrant act 

word root persist forgotten trust follow

words were the root 

 of their blooming

he had not forgotten her

he persisted

he would find her 

she followed her instinct

placing her trust in him

it could have been an act of folly

but it turned out to be a blessing

these days

from the fragrant field 

perfumed by a sea breeze

she watches the wrens

and dreams of

porpoise kisses

A Great Moment

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. 'Just a minute', answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940's movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard

box filled with photos and glassware.

'Would you carry my bag out to the car?' she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. 'It's nothing', I told her.. 'I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.'

'Oh, you're such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, 'Could you drive

through downtown?'

'It's not the shortest way,' I answered quickly..

'Oh, I don't mind,' she said. 'I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. 'I don't have any family left,' she continued in a soft voice..'The doctor says I don't have very long.' I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

'What route would you like me to take?' I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, 'I'm tired.Let's go now'.

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.

They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

'How much do I owe you?' She asked, reaching into her purse.

'Nothing,' I said

'You have to make a living,' she answered.

'There are other passengers,' I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

'You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,' she said. 'Thank you.'

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY

WHAT YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID ~BUT~THEY WILL

ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM

FEEL.

 

WHIRLIGIG 326

 

 Another problem caused by deforestation

 

 

make no bones about it

these brave wide awake alert and well trained dogs

hate queuing for natural bodily functions

there are limits

 

without enough trees

what's a dog to do

 

a case of the trots 

can get a holler

from a park ranger

plus a fine

dogs prefer to run free

but are not allowed to

 

 

THIS WEEK'S WORDS come from

"All Dogs Go To Heaven " by Nikki Wallschlaeger

brave, limit, free, awake, hate, holler, trot, natural, making, bones, allowed, without 

 

 

 

Carpe Diem # 1847 - Renga With Jane Reichhold

Here are the six (6) haiku by Jane Reichhold: (1937 - 2016)

beach tent billows
in the summer blue
white clouds

desert sounds
out of the sun's way
clouds moving

morning downpour
raised to new heights
afternoon clouds

dancing lights
clouds sprinkle the sun
across water

clouds
colored by open wall
a driftwood lair

curving with the land
a rainbow of clouds
moves out to sea

 

 Reichhold (1937-2016)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

desert sounds
out of the sun's way
moving clouds
ahead of the camels
plodding along with their bells

clouds coloured
by open wall
a driftwood lair
of sun baked rocks
lizards still like statues

curving with the land
a rainbow of clouds
moves out to sea
the arabs ride in single file
the sea beckoning in the distance

beach tent billows
in the summer blue
white clouds
drift above the flapping canvas
scene from a monet painting

dancing lights
clouds sprinkle the sun
across water
the dolphins ride the waves
like graceful ballerinas 

morning downpour
raised to new heights
afternoon clouds
gather for the rare event
rain in the desert

Carpe Diem #1846

 

 

 

 

 a new day rises

birds praising their Creator

the cry of a baby

© Chèvrefeuille

 

 

 another new beginning

not easy for an orphan

soldier on darling