Genie’s Pocket - by Jeanie Greensfelder

 

2013 and 2012 Columns

 

 

December, 2013       Genie’s Pocket    

 

From the bridge I look for ducks

and see a man's likeness on a rock

in the creek. Shaded by wild iris,

this Einstein or Mark Twain smiles.

 

November, 2013       Genie’s Pocket    

 

At the Watch Store

 

Time is broken

 

Three men bend over desks

fitted with wells for screws and discs.

 

October, 2013          Genie’s Pocket    

 

Cruising Avila Beach Bay

 

The truth is I want it all —

I want to be my zodiac driver,

follow a narrow cave to its end,

then dive and come up in a cove

discovering Caribbean turquoise.

 

September, 2013     Genie’s Pocket    

 

Like a searchlight,

the moon

moves over the swamp,

spies a ghost orchid,

lingers, and lets

white on white

mirror one another

in the black of night.

 

August, 2013           Genie’s Pocket    

 

The Story of the Two Bears

 

My poodle smells bear, Pat says,

Fifi refuses to go near the creek.

We share yesterday's news: a man

sees a bear asleep in an avocado tree

close by. A crowd gathers and claps

until it wakes and runs away.

 

July, 2013                Genie’s Pocket    

 

In June

 

Jacarandas bloom,

leaving nearby trees

green with envy.

 

June, 2013               Genie’s Pocket    

 

My Mother:

Arrangements in Grey and Black

 

In the dim basement, my mother

scrubs clothes on a wash board —

how she feels about her life

is written on her face,

but I don't know how to read.

 

May, 2013                Genie’s Pocket    

 

Slaying Dragons

 

Waving his battle-axe

he slays dragons and goblins

preparing me for The Hobbit,

a movie he's seen three times.

 

April, 2013                Genie’s Pocket    

 

Sipping my café cortado

I notice a silver-haired man.

He wears jeans and a Patagonia fleece

and studies his New York Times

 

March, 2013             Genie’s Pocket    

 

Cruise Stop, Trapani, Sicily

 

Bicycles ply cobblestone streets —

no helmets here, no stop signs.

A woman beats her rug

on her balcony railing.

Across from her

an old man sits and watches.

At the corner, two men argue,

their hands shaking like maracas.

 

February, 2013         Genie’s Pocket    

 

She stows away inside me,

watches for shadows to tag,

and says, Don't step on cracks.

 

She waves at me in the mirror

and makes faces until I laugh.

 

January, 2013           Genie’s Pocket    

 

In the middle of the night,

I walk down the hall.

Ahead of me, someone

moves silently:

a ghost in a nightgown.

 


December, 2012
      Genie’s Pocket    

 

Traditional and Modern Art

 

My neighbor's mailbox,

a miniature of their home

with beige shingles and white shutters,

lacks the rocking chairs on the porch,

the red geranium window boxes,

and the grandparents who stepped out

of a Norman Rockwell painting.

 

November, 2012       Genie’s Pocket    

 

On the Museum of Modern Art's terrace

a life-size sculpture stands:

a black snake, a green St. Michael

slaying Satan, a yellow Madonna,

a black saint, a purple bishop

and a grey, grim caveman.

 

October, 2012           Genie’s Pocket    

 

By the grocery, a homeless man smokes.

Seeing me, he hides his cigarette,

stands up, nods his head, and says,

Ma'am, may you have a beautiful day.

His greeting follows me into the store

where I gather green beans and bread.

On leaving, I plan to thank the man,

and talk to him, but he's gone.

 

September, 2012       Genie’s Pocket    

 

Percolating

 

Alone, sipping espresso,

 

I see my father light the burner,

and set a percolator on the stove.

A soft booga-booga begins.

Coffee bubbles into the glass knob,

then the acrid smell that makes him smile.

I watch him sit, sip, and sigh.

 

August, 2012            Genie’s Pocket    

 

Nipomo Ranch Walk

 

A bee struggles in a spider's web

and a lizard, who lost his tail, darts by.

Both steer me to the earth,

midwife to life, and its cemetery.

 

July, 2012                Genie’s Pocket    

 

My first boyfriend was my second choice:

Beth got Terry Bachman so I got Billy Cook

whose jaw hung, his tongue showing.

 

I looked down on Billy: girls were taller

in seventh grade. I wore his ID bracelet

and a motorcycle cap with his initials.

 

June, 2012               Genie’s Pocket    

 

The Barn

 

A tombstone to times past,

the barn behind Home Depot

holds untold stories,

yet tells so much.

 

May, 2012               Genie’s Pocket    

 

Sanctuary

 

Gathered like prayers in marsh grass,

snowy egrets congregate, seeking shelter.

Bundled in our fleeces, a stranger and I

share this hallowed moment, and watch

prayers take flight.

 

April, 2012               Genie’s Pocket    

 

Guilin, China

 

Slipping into a Chinese scroll,

I'm on the Li River as it ribbons

among misted mountains,

peaks hiding, then re-emerging.

Water buffalo bathe in the river

and on the banks, women wash clothes.

 

March 2012              Genie’s Pocket    

 

California Cloudburst

 

Under my umbrella, protected,

raindrops ping, and I take note,

knowing at my age,

walks in the rain are numbered.

I spin the stem, making spray,

but then, pings ring steady and strong,

the street becomes a stream,

and my socks are soaked.

 

February, 2012         Genie’s Pocket    

 

Unveiling the Sun

 

Paring a garnet yam, I unveil the sun.

Peeling a round onion, I hold the moon.

Both grew below ground,

and journeyed to this sacrificial moment.

Slicing with care, sautéing in olive oil,

adding garlic, spinach and a portabella,

I see earth and sky unite.

 

January, 2012          Genie’s Pocket    

 

T0 2012

 

You burst from the starting gate

and though I pull on the reins,

I hang on for the ride,

longing for 1940's snail-pace years

when I wanted to be older, faster, sooner

 

 

 

    

Back to Genie’s Pocket 2014                             Go to Genie’s Pocket 2011 and 2010