Wednesday, April 20, 2022

Three poems ____________________ Julie A. Dickson

 

Not like the Classics

[nods to Catcher in the Rye, The Member

of the Wedding and The Fox]

 

I don’t remember Holden Caulfield,

never read of his disillusionment, dead

brother, phony adults and failed schools

until I met a real life Holden, nothing

like the classic novel, full of wonder, I

 

was a member of a wedding, a bridesmaid

twice, never felt part of a group as a teen,

indeed struggled for a place among adults,

not like the classic, runaway begging to

be accepted, sat on the wooded edges like

 

a fox, observing life, no jealousy, just

marched on, few women friends, men

entered and left, some without incident,

others leaving heartache, not like them -

classics where a tree falls atop a friendship

 

 

 

Julie A. Dickson

Exeter, New Hampshire

 


Role Reversal

 

She suddenly had the feeling that she

was somehow older than her mother

Gram died only weeks before, not even

time enough to grieve for herself, but

mom was obviously lost, after months

of hospital visits, time was empty now,

a hole where her vigil used to be, daily

phone calls from mom to gram, gone.

She naturally stepped into a new role,

checking on mom often, welcome calls

filling a void also allowed them to bond,

a new relationship was forming, a kind

of role reversal; now she felt as mother

  

Julie A. Dickson

Exeter, New Hampshire

 


waiting to die

 

foot turned in

stroked out look

on her pallid face

holds the same book

 

for hours

 

blank expression stare,

without seeing words

going through motions

familiar yet absurd

 

stumbles

 

through endless day

even longer night

sits weary

no more does she fight

 

to speak

 

no one hears

her strained voice

barely a whisper

given no choice

 

waiting to die

 

 

 

 

Julie A. Dickson

Exeter, New Hampshire

 

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