so, got your tickets, passport //luggage– in the trunk, right–? “mom—“

this crazy daughter of mine just landed in berlin..smiles

this crazy daughter of mine at berlin airport…smiles

france smells different,
mix of grass & gasoline,
i dunno what it is

this morning
on the way back from the airport
where i dropped them off
for three days, father/daughter time,
surprising grandma who’s still
hospitalized in berlin

“i look forward to the flight” she says,
kisses me good bye,
“have fun”,
& i could spend all day
in starting airplanes,

morning mist’s wet lips
pearl upUpuP,
play hide & seek between the grass blades,
as i drive blank roads,
my aching leg safely bandaged
&house empty, i

go downstairs,
make the bed, open windows,
rinse some cups,
taste your warmth still
in the wrinkles of the blanket,

& smile at the flashback
of last night, our clumsy making love,
avoiding touching
my inflamed foot

“hey, good morning” i say to the birds,
who welcome daybreak from the pear tree,
songs, composed just now,
a lorry starts the engine
bRRuMMBrrrrrBrumMMMm,
beautiful warm baritone,

& i sit on the solar edge,
between a ticking clock, my crutches
leaned against the window,
faces turned towards the spilling dawn,
& we all listen,
breathless–

to each others stories

.

it’s OpenLinkNight again at dVerse Poets where we spell poetry, yrteop, eoptry..backward.. forward or just as we like….smiles.. see you at 3pm EST…

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64 responses to “so, got your tickets, passport //luggage– in the trunk, right–? “mom—“

  1. what a wonderful way to enjoy those few moments alone, knowing that your loved ones will return before too long.

    I hope your injury heals quickly 🙂

  2. ha. what a picture of your daughter…smiles…i hope your foot feels better today as well…ack…still nursing my shoulder a bit…nice intimate look in on your closing moments with hubs, love the description of the lorry starting…and enjoy the time…its cool he is taking time for just the two of them…that is important…and i love stories…smiles.

  3. Making love clumsily … can be , well clumsy, when injured … but it has a funny and very sexy and very tender component to it as well …. I remember the long winter nights while tending to our cattle and their babies … calves in the kitchen recovering from the cold … man and beast warming up by the same fire … exhausted and dirty critters sleeping … man horny … let’s make another baby … oops, too much info maybe, sorry, thoroughly enjoyed it … 🙂

  4. france smells different,
    mix of grass & gasoline,
    i dunno what it is

    Nether do i…. but I love this feeling and the moment that solitude becomes your personal friend.
    thank you for sharing this precious multifaceted moment in your life, Claudia.

  5. your sense of aloneness, with memories of everyone and everyone’s stories sharing your solitude, is so personal and peaceful – i love it claudia 🙂 hope your foot continues to heal 😉

  6. Claudia, I missed what happened to your leg (while I was away..?); but it sounds difficult and painful; and I hope it is healing well. I chuckled at the beginning. I DO think France smells different. I was somewhere once (forget where – sigh), and we walked from Germany into France, and I noted that same thing…it has a different smell. Odd, but true. Love reading your routine as you return to the house empty of people. You make luscious poetry out of the ordinary stuff of life. I enjoyed the talking to the birds…ha, I do that too. If there are no people to communicate with, the birds are good company. Smiles. And they do manage to keep up a good conversation…LOL. I hope they have a good flight!

  7. Just taking time out is sure the way to be and hopefully you soon get rid of the crummy injury. My what a big tongue she has lol

  8. There is such a wonderful earthy feel to the poem…once again the senses are filled with what you’ve experienced…another fine poem….sorry to hear about your injury…hope you recover quickly.

  9. You really have a great way of writing that makes me feel that I am inside your consciousness-esp, because you don’t make sure the reader knows exactly what you are saying-the ambiguity lends an authentic shade to this. Thanks.

  10. I have tears in my eyes. As I listen to your story, I know I sat at that edge just a few hours ago and I am writing mine down–gratitude for family, prayers for Mandela and all travelers. Such joy! Thank you.

  11. I love the intimate details in this..the father and daughter time..your time alone after they leave and the memory of yesterday…:) I hope you heal quickly and I hope they have a great time while away. 🙂 I love her picture 🙂

  12. I hear a doctor saying to your daughter, “You feel kind of warm. Stick out your tongue!” hee-hee

    Got to do some research–how did I miss your leg accident? Hope pain is not overwhelmig (it would take a LOT to overwhelm our Claudia…that is a safe bet. Throw away the crutches soon, I hope.

    I really enjoy slice-of-life prose, posted one myself today. Asked Brian if prose is allowed on dVerse. Naturally, he wanted to say “NO!”…but “Yes” slipped out of his face-port.

    SMELLS: Each I believe has its own smell. My sensitive smeller can tell when we pass state lines from Florida to Georgia. NY has countless odors traveling and mingling, I LOVE that. Unless their garbage drivers have been on strike for two months…whew!

    OH! brian has a pear tree with birds also. Don’t know if he speaks with them in mornings. I did! (Then went back to bed. HA!)

    BYE, Claudia…maybe take it a little easy, instead of trying to DO, DO, DO-WOP all over, cleaning, washing, etc.

  13. How’d you hurt your foot? Sounds painful. (I hurt my knee recently. So I can relate a tlittle.)

    I like the clumsy love making, the the time alone, all of it. Hope your mother-in-law gets better. And you – take care, get well soon.

  14. Another lovely capture here… how wonderful it is for your daughter to spend time like that with her dad, although I know you would have loved to be on that plane, too. Hope your foot feels better soon.

    Oh, and I think you could write a poem starting with this line:

    i could spend all day
    in starting airplanes

  15. …ah, this is stellar Claudia…. all your words & descriptions here are lovely & some are so tricky as the photo above… smiles… loved that notion of driving blank roads… ha… smiles…

  16. Wonderful to be together and then alone just for a while to savor all the goodness. Having a grand family to share moments is heavenly. Hoping your foot is ok now. Great take Claudia!

    Hank

  17. Love those ending lines, just resting as dawn breaks & listening to the stories ~ I just came off from an injured ankle so I can relate to the crutches & inflamed foot ~ Take care Claudia ~

  18. “go downstairs,
    make the bed, open windows,
    rinse some cups,
    taste your warmth still
    in the wrinkles of the blanket,”

    I love the way you tell your stories with such openness, such freedom, and always a sense of warmth –like you are talking to an intimate friend. Nicely penned, Claudia. (BTW, your daughter is lovely, even with the silly expression!)

  19. I really enjoy how you are able to bring the reader into your day. I loved the part about the birds composing a song just now. I have a Cockatiel who is always composing a new song.

  20. O, sorry about your leg…hope it mends soon…in the meantime, I love the domesticity mingled here with the clumsy lovemaking…everything you write, Claudia, is a journey…even a simple scene…is a fun trip!

  21. You are the poet of those everyday moments we all create, we all feel, yet we all somehow miss to describe. Love the story, the tenderness, the wry humour, the happy loneliness of it.

  22. great images… it felt like stealing a little piece of your life, peeping in through your soul-windows. lovely and intimate.

  23. Beautifully detailed poem, Claudia. You set the stage and carry us through with your words. Crutches?¡¿ Why are you on crutches? I hope you mend up quickly.

    Pamela
    btw, apologizes for the late visit, but I was adverting a crisis for a friend yesterday evening.

  24. Family…nothing finer. I love when my family gets together and we exchange our stories…which will be happening in late July and I cannot wait to see my children all together in one space again. Needless to say, Claudia, I loved this!

  25. Captured the emotions of Hard Hearted Hannah…I must be getting that way in my “Waning Years”
    I put my own daughter, then 14, now 42 on a plane to meet her father after ten years apart…I asked how he’d know her (before the internet of course) and he said he’d heard she looked like me at that age…
    Yes, we are all the same but different ☺
    Thanks for sharing your moment in time with your daughter.
    Peace,
    Siggi

  26. I really like this piece Claudia–it seems to breathe with happiness and sadness, frustration and healing. So many emotions in it. Know I feel for you about the crutches–I spent almost 6 months on them over the course of my three foot surgeries! Hopefully you heal more quickly and well. Thanks for your visit, too. 🙂

  27. Fun picture of your daughter! Hope your foot heals quickly. Love the description of going back to the quiet house, and that final stanza, “we all listen breathless–to each other’s stories.” That is what we do, even when we can’t put them into words ourselves. Enjoy your “quiet” time!

  28. Hi! Claudia…
    “so, got your tickets, passport //luggage– in the trunk, right–? “mom—”
    What a nice pic Of your daughter…and if i may be so bold i would like to add the words: cute and fun… too !

    • …Now, with that being said,here wishing grandmother, well, as well, as your-self…I was unaware Of your injury. I also want to wish Father and Daughter god-speed…too !

      in your poetic words you have captured moments: with your husband and child…alone to adsorb sounds, reflect on moments past, and listen to each others stories – breathless.

      Tks, 4 sharing !
      deedee 🙂