Nana's House

The white Victorian on the edge of the green

gingerbread lace hanging from the eaves

veranda on the corner

neatly tucked in.

Enter through the red front door

you are welcomed,

wrapped in love, embraced by time,

these old things that once were hers:

that old rug, faded and worn,

that certain floorboard that squeaks and sets the tea cups rattling

in the china cupboard

when you pass by.

There is her rocker, empty now but still, I hear its distant music.

I know the yellow paint is peeling off the kitchen walls,

and views out these windows are wobbly from antique glass panes,

but, this room holds her presence,

—cooking at the stove

—feeding grandpa at the old gray Formica table

—preparing holiday dinners

—grading student papers in the evening.

Nana’s house is where we gathered

as a family clan so many years ago.

Now everyone has moved on

far and wide and involved

In their own lives

Yet we all have threads trailing behind us

and tying us back

to this old Home.

 ~Kathie Adams Brown (April 13, 2014)

NaPoWriMo 2015 / 30 Poems in 30 Days

In the Green Fields of Maine

Norridgewock, ME 2012

In the green fields of Maine

I lie on the cool green breast of the earth

Warmed by an Indian Summer sun

While all of my sadness drains away

Drawn out by this good earth,

This dirt and grass, and deep blue sky

I lie here still as a newborn fawn,

I feel this sense of being

Close to the earth I love

Close to the land I love

Close to the beating heart of nature

I lie here weak and worried

Then I rest

And let my heart grow strong

Lying on this cool green breast

Warmed by the October sun

Grateful that I am home.

~Kathie Adams Brown (February 7, 2013)

Poem for a Boy Coming Home

I have waited for you with beating heart

Trembling with anticipation

Arms opened wide for an embrace

Waiting to see your eyes, your face.

How can you know the depths of my love?

I do not think most boys really understand.

Your boyish smile is the delight of my life,

Your desire to protect me is a quality I love,

Your striving for respect is beyond admirable,

And all that you are I love.

I am your mother, your grandmother, your sister, your wife.

I am all the women in your life.

You are my boy, my son, my grandson, my brother, and My Man.

~kathie adams brown (8-16-13)

Running Home

Santa Rita Mountains, Tucson, AZ 2010

What is this that awakens me?

What is this pull I feel?

I rise on a sunny morning,

I get into my car and drive,

I pass beneath a Swainson’s hawk circling above,

I leave the city streets behind.

Around me, the desert opens wide—

I feel my mind relaxing

As each mile falls behind,

And then I see the wonder

Of this wild place

Each mile draws me closer

To these cactus covered slopes

Where birds fly free in a pale blue sky,

Where birds nest in pale green scrub,

Where mountain peaks rise up and stand

Shoulder to shoulder towering

Over spiny saguaros,

Deep canyons,

And me.

—I am being called

—I am being pulled

—I am running

Home.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 17, 2013)

NaPoWriMo 2013 Day 17 Prompt: Write a poem of greeting.

Arizona Kitchen

Here is the blue tissue box by the sink

and the green bird house pen and pencil holder,

the black granite counter tops (all anyone wants these days,

along with stainless steel appliances)

Here is the place where

                Endless dishes are washed,

                Coffee is brewed fresh every morning,

                Conversations begun and ended,

                Songs sung alone by myself.

Here is the place where

               

Easter eggs are colored,

Pizza is baked,

The Thanksgiving turkey is stuffed and roasted,

Caramel popcorn is made at Christmas,

Or, Margaritas on a summer evening,

The cats meow as I fill their dishes in the morning,

And in the evening the little black and white dog waits by the door

When she hears her master’s car in the driveway, but

This could be any kitchen, anywhere.

~Kathie Adams Brown (April 1, 2013)

NaPoWriMo 2013

The Mourning Dove's Song

In early morning, or late in the day

I hear the soft, mournful tones

from the lavender breast of a stone-colored dove.

It is a soothing song in this suburban landscape,

a reminder of wild things in wilder places

where I once lived and loved

and my heart roamed free.

It is a pleasant song calling me

Home.

~Kathie Adams Brown  (March 21, 2013)

Abundance

Abundance is more than food

or drink,

It is a fullness of heart,

a thankfulness,

a contenment in the soul,

a serenity.

It is a warm and quiet place to eat your breakfast

On a cold winter’s day.

~Kathie Adams Brown (1-20-11)

One Single Impression

Purple Martin Home

Purple Martins and Saguaro photo by Kathie, June 12, 2008

Purple martins fly
wings that slice through azure sky
green saguaro home
~kathie (June 15, 2008)

One Single Impression prompt 16: Transience or Permanence.