Friday, 20 April 2018

growing pains

Dedicated to Travis

I remember, it was in the grocery store I asked to see my mom's glasses and put them on, for the first time; for the fun of it.

"Mom, MOM! I can see everything!"
"Well Son, looks like we need to get you glasses!"

And I remember, it was over a summer, that I would wake up in the night with excruciating leg pain. My mom took me to the Dr;

"Well, son, looks like you've got growing pains. It hurts; but it stops eventually"

And I remember the first time jumping off of the big rock at the Puntledge River. My dad was beside me, advising me of the opportunities;

"Well Son, ya gotta look out for the little windows along the rapids so you can see the bottom of where you're diving to"

And it's been a few decades since these events took place and, as with any troubles, with time and perspective I've been able to see with fleeting clarity;

I've been able to acknowledge the danger signs;

But the Dr. was dead wrong about the growing pains.

- Marion Jane Lefevre, 2018

Friday, 13 April 2018

cacophony of the house

Dedicated to Anne


"Why the hell tell me what They Think they think?"
she thought she had thought

and the thought she thought they had thought

forms micro-beads along the crests;
forms crochet grit knots in her chest;
second-guessing what she knows best--

"The Thought they thought", she thought,
gets bound and caught in her throat;

she starts to cough,
and laugh,
and distress;

"Why are my thoughts such a frustrating mess?"

- Marion Jane Lefevre, 2018

long roads

people change  rearrange into strangers  it's alarming at first   but then the danger  of having room to grow   becomes a joy we share. ...