Blow-Up (Monday Poem)

 by X. J. Kennedy

Our cherry tree

Unfolds whole loads

Of pink-white bloom---

It just explodes.

For three short days

Its petals last.

Oh, what a waste.

But what a blast.

 

 

from The Family Read-Aloud Holiday Treasury, 

selected by Alice Low, 

Little, Brown and Company, 1991

 

On Aging (Monday Poem)

by Maya Angelou

 

 

When you see me sitting quietly,

Like a sack left on the shelf, 

Don't think I need your chattering.

I'm listening to myself.

Hold! Stop! Don't pity me!

Hold! Stop your sympathy.

Understanding if you got it,

Otherwise I'll do without it.

When my bones are stiff and aching,

And my feet won't climb the stair,

I will only ask one favor:

Don't bring me no rocking chair.

When you see me walking, stumbling.

Don't study and get it wrong.

'Cause tired don't mean lazy

And every goodbye ain't gone.

I'm the same person I was back then,

A little less hair, a little less chin,

A lot less lungs and much less wind.

But ain't I lucky I can still breathe in.

 

 

from The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou, by Maya Angelou

Random House, 1994

Willie (Monday Poem)

 by Maya Angelou

Willie was a man without fame,

Hardly anybody knew his name.

Crippled and limping, always walking lame,

He said, " I keep on movin'

Movin' just the same."

Solitude was the climate in his head,

Emptiness was the partner in his bed,

Pain echoed in the steps of his tread,

He said, " I keep on followin'

Where the leaders led.

"I may cry and I will die,

But my spirit is the soul of every spring.

Watch for me and you will see

That I'm present in the songs that children sing."

People called him "Uncle," "Boy" and "Hey,"

Said, "You can't live through this another day."

Then, they waited to hear what he would say.

He said, "I'm livin'

In the games that children play.

"You may enter my sleep, people my dreams,

Threaten my early morning's ease,

But I keep comin' followin' laughin' cryin',

Sure as a summer breeze.

Wait for me, watch for me.

My spirit is the surge of open seas.

Look for me, ask for me,

I'm the rustle in the autumn leaves.

When the sun rises

I am the time.

When the children sing

I am the Rhyme."

from The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou, by Maya Angelou

Random House, 1994

Passing Time (Monday Poem)

 by Maya Angelou

Your skin like dawn

Mine like dusk.

One paints the beginning 

of a certain end.

The other, the end of a 

sure beginning.

from The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou, by Maya Angelou

Random House, 1994