Poetry

First Words

~ rdicarne ~ Leave a comment

Today’s #Verselove prompt was to borrow the first words of each line of a poem. I chose the first words from the poem “Those Winter Sundays” by Robert Hayden.

Sundays Remind Me of You

Sundays are days for church and rest
and contemplating the week ahead.
Then why does my mind find it hard to focus?
From morning until night, the day is
banked by the memories of you.

I’d give anything to see you again
when I open my eyes in the morning
and enjoy a Sunday breakfast you made with love
fearing it would all be a dream.

Speaking about you and our life together reminds the world
who you were, who you loved, who loved you,
and the differences you made in the lives of others.
What a lucky woman I am to have had a life
of love and laughter with such a wonderful man.

Nature’s Call to Explore

~ rdicarne ~ 1 Comment

Today, the #Verselove prompt was to write a poem containing onomatopoeia (the formation of a word from a sound associated with what is named, e.g. cuckoo, sizzle ). I coupled that with writing with my 7th-graders about nature in honor of Earth Day.

Can you spot the onomatopoeia?

Take me to the ocean
to hear the swish and splash of the waves
where seagulls swoop and call
cow-cow-cow as they move through their days

Take me to the forest
where leaves crackle and crunch neath my feet
trees forming canopies
where I can find respite from the heat.

Take me to the mountain
where the red-tailed hawk calls kee-eeeee-arr
where fearless eagles fly
from peak to peak over elk and bear

Take me to the river
where the water ripples without end
babble, gurgle, murmur,
as it gently rolls around the bend.

Take me to the canyon
where rock formations forge down deep
where rattlesnakes slither
and coyotes and foxes find sleep.

Take me to the valley
to its lush lowlands between the hills
arid or acuqatic
when day is done the wildlife stills.

Bring me out to nature
from chirps and tweets to honks of the geese
it is here in nature
where I am able to find my peace

Savoring Flavors

~ rdicarne ~ 1 Comment

Today’s Verselove prompt: Choose one “spice” to guide your writing today, and let it season your free verse poem as your thoughts move freely across the page.

Garlic

Sautéed, smashed, confited, or raw,
garlic was a staple in our home.
Its subtle aroma permeating the house
meant something good was coming our way.
Our personal chef was creating delicious dishes
inspired by his southern Italian roots,
which he learned from his father as a boy.

From Sunday sauce, sauteed spinach, and bruschetta,
to shrimp scampi, roasted pork, or garlic bread,
these are some of the places hints of garlic would
rise from the beautifully presented plates
and dance through the air and onto our taste buds.

Now, garlic is a staple in the homes of his children
where they cook for their families using
some of the recipes they learned by his side
proud of their southern Italian roots.

Loss and Love

~ rdicarne ~ Leave a comment

Today’s Verselove prompt: write a poem about beginning again. The suggested poetic form was an etheree. The poetry form, Etheree, consists of 10 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 syllables. Etheree can also be reversed and written 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

I
lost the
love of my
life to cancer
shockingly, quickly.
He was my everything.
He is still my everything.
I long to hear his voice again,
to see his mischievous eyes and smile.
Hoping he appears in my dreams tonight.

Dreams and memories are all that I have
to get me through the long, lonely days.
The glimpses of the past must do
life lines when I’m feeling blue,
the laughs, the tears, the love.
These must sustain me.
For I believe
in my heart
love lives
on.

Safe Haven

~ rdicarne ~ 1 Comment

It was going to be our stepping stone

from the red brick row house in the city with a cement patio and back driveway

to an aluminum-sided twin in the “burbs” with a fenced-in backyard.

Each move was meant to bring us closer

to the larger single home with a two-car garage we imagined,

but instead, the twin house on Carriage Drive became our forever home.

In this home, we hosted Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas Feasts of the Seven Fishes.

With folding tables and chairs, we packed in guests like sardines.

Still, there was always room for one more to join the chaos.

It is where the love of everything Philly shines with pride –

where yelling at the TV on football Sundays or at the Phillies or Sixers

was a common occurrence, but the love for the teams never died.

Here, our children learned to cook by watching their dad  

make delicious dishes with the special ingredient: love.

Grandchildren come here for sleepovers with Nona,

to watch movies, make crafts, play games, and eat snacks.

It is my safe space to come home to at the end of the workday,

where the love of my life welcomed me home with a smile.

Now, I come home to an empty house, welcomed only by the memories,

but the memories are still so sweet, and I still feel safe.

Cul-de-Sac Reflections

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

10 miles northwest of Philadelphia, where I grew up.

It is where we watched our children grow and pursue their interests,

where I established my 40-year teaching career in Catholic education.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where we were once a young couple with young children.

Now I am the resident living here the longest (but not the oldest!),

with a house empty but for the memories.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where neighbors look out for each other, especially when it snows.

It is where a neighbor, whose children have long been adults,

still has a basketball hoop out front for the kids.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where we gathered to watch each other’s children go to prom,

get married, and have children.

And now we talk about the grandchildren.

I am from a cul-de-sac in a small town,

where I hope to live out the rest of my days,

knowing this is a circle where

everyone looks out for each other.

Detour

~ rdicarne ~ 2 Comments
Orange road sign with text ROAD CLOSED AHEAD DETOUR and a right-pointing arrow.


The road to growing old together

closed on 9/26/25

when he died at 69.

I thought there would be more time: 

more meals together

more goodnight kisses

more smiles when our eyes met

more late-night laughing

more watching sports together

more sitting in the same room together

just being together.

So now I am taking a detour,

learning a new route

with new experiences along the way

praying these roads eventually lead me

back to the love of my life.

Post-op Day 1

~ rdicarne ~ 5 Comments

Yesterday I had a cholecystectomy or in easier terms – my gallbladder removed. After having an excruciating gallbladder attack on New Year’s night, I couldn’t gamble on not having another attack before school ends in June, so I decided to extend my Easter break by three days and get it taken care of sooner rather than later.

Anesthesia has worn off
Head is clearer
So is the pain
Not unbearable – just
making its presence known

Coughing is tricky
Placing abdominal pressure
A necessary precaution
Changing positions
Done gingerly
No sudden movements

Dietary delicacies
Crackers and chicken broth
Jello and oatmeal
Tea and ginger ale
Keeps nausea away

Short term annoyances
For long term gains and
Maybe some fried calamari!

A Weekend Coffee Share Poem

~ rdicarne ~ Leave a comment

During National Poetry Month I am attempting to write a poem a day. Some I will post, some I won’t. I am drawing inspiration from a number of online sources. Today’s poem is a result of a prompt given at #verselove on ethicalela.com. Kim Johnson, Ed.D. provide today’s inspiration when she told us to “imagine being in a small coffee shop among friends” who are catching up and to share something about ourselves.

Weekend Coffee Share Poem

If we were having coffee…
My drink would be black tea
or maybe a chai latte.

If we were having coffee…
We would catch up
on the aches & pains
of our aging bodies
which would morph into
a discussion about which
Medicare plan we were choosing
Since this year we will turn
That magical number 65.

If we were having coffee…
We would talk about our grandchildren
and expound on all the wonderful things
the loves of our lives are doing
and how full if life they
make us feel.

If we were having coffee…
We’d discuss the latest
books we were reading,
and I would tell you
to add Mad Honey
to your list.

If we were having coffee…
I would make sure
we got out our calendars
and made another “coffee” date
sooner rather than later.

Nature’s Warning

~ rdicarne ~ 3 Comments

The wind whistles
its ominous warning
through the not quite closed
storm window –
a precursor
to the impending
thunderstorms and high winds
Nature’s way of telling us
to stay in
hunker down
be vigilant