I used to love writing poetry. You know, children don't spend much time with it anymore. They are too busy getting ready for standardized tests. Too bad... Occasionally I jot one down and since we are cleaning out EVERYTHING, I found this one from when Jim received his Miata convertible from Daniel, Tim, and Seth for his birthday. License plate FRMYSNZ. Now Jim is an amazing poet and writer, but I'll be brave and share this one.
Convertible Meditation
When you let the top down
the world is different to my eyes.
Blue turns to azure,
Soft clouds become puffs of meringue.
The wind that silently blew trees
and leaves and grass as we
drove by
is now touching me.
Pushing my hair back,
swishing around my nose like a gentle finger,
making my silk scarf flutter around my neck
tickling itself outside the car’s periphery.
Small breaths of cool air
swirl over my bare arms and
I watch to see if they are becoming pink in the sun.
I imagine that those who pass,
and those we pass
could be thinking
“Oh, what fun!”, or
“I wish that were me!”, or
“She looks just like Jackie O!”
My senses are embraced in a small space and time
perhaps to become
convertible meditation.
Marilee Tice 2010
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