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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
Wild sweet raspberries
The itch of poison ivy
Lightning bugs at dusk
Chlorine streaks my hair
Nose burns and peels, burns some more
Hated the swim team
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2019
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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
Working Out
Decades ago
presidential elections were
every four years
Rest between sets
quiet days ward off
carabolic states
Now, the madness starts
on the first
Wednesday of November
Taper before the race
hydrate and carbo load
stretch and relax
Newscasters make predictions
hours after inauguration
“who is the fittest?”
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2019
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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
Fourteen
At fourteen,
Lost in the woods
Squatting to pee, it
Runs down my leg
hot and itchy
No one knows where I
am, or was
My face splotched
and pimply
Always embarrassed
No kissing for me
The boys want perfect skin
pretty smiles
I hide in those pine trees
Near the pond and farm
There’s no watch or clock
I can’t read the sun
Just my hunger
When it’s time to go I walk
Past the corn,
over the stones
Rotting apples on the lawn
The door unlocked, my room
Hot and bare
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2020
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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
It’s all good, it will be
The printer will print
Will that settle the soul?
For now anyway?
It’s not about the TV
Or the lack of furniture
Or worry about money
Or who likes you or not
It’s about perspective
How to understand what happens
In the wide open space
That is life, the future
It’s what we can control
the wisdom of age
And how that feels condescending
But it’s not; it’s experience
It’s speaking through time
So annoying to the young
“You don’t get it” echoes
Through generations and family lines
It’s the blankness in spaces
Between one life
And the successive beings
who push and pull
Until they split off, a separate orbit
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2021
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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
Window Gazing
Maureen Staley Cary
Might her mood be blue
like the curtain or the shade of sea
stripes on her dress
staring portside, about to take a step
through the open frame
lured by the soft lapping water,
a distant seagull, flapping sailcloth
a fleeting moment
rendered constant
on Dali’s canvas
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2020
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Maureen Staley Cary Poem
by Maureen Staley Cary
When I hear that faint rumble, deep in the clouds,
The summer sky will darken, lead-gray
The rain will come in slanting sheets,
Forming mist as it hits hot, hard earth
The birds will retreat, like the ants,
But the earthworms will emerge from the softened soil,
Content in the break from August heat.
Copyright © Maureen Staley Cary | Year Posted 2022
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