Alecia


When you’re

five,

you can still

fly

in a chair.


You can lean

around the corners,


climb

really high,


drop really fast,


and land gently in the family room.


Then, if you say “again,” you can do it all over

until Grandpa gets tired (which is pretty soon)

or says it’s your brother’s turn.







May 24, 2006


Not knowing we couldn’t,

we lived Wednesday twice.


The first time was like others—
the alarm rang, we got dressed,

drove to work, worked all day, came home,

ate our third meal, and got ready for bed.


The second time began after the first.

This time the phone rang, we got dressed,

drove to Philadelphia, and saw our grandson

born fourteen minutes before Thursday.




Video for the Grandkids

(Putting Teeth under the Pillow for the Tooth Pairy)


Thinking it grand to be triplets

in a distant alliterative trio,

putting and pillow turned

fairy to pairy,…


and laughed at

the sound

of their

p-oh.


(Anything that laughs

is worth remembering.)




Piper


On

her way

out she turns and,

through half-closed door,

declares “Peace out”, holding

up one finger, all she can

manage for now.


Recovering,

we smile and reply

“Peace out”, holding

up two fingers,

or just one

to match

hers.

                   



Lucy and William


On the day your mother went into labor,

a juvenile wood stork appeared at Wildwood Park

in Harrisburg, the first to be seen there since the 1890s,

the fourteenth ever recorded in Pennsylvania.


On the next morning, June 25, the morning of your births—

Lucy first at 6:11 AM and then Will seven minutes later—

I was taking pictures of your assigned wood stork

when I was called to come to the hospital.


The next day the wood stork was gone,

no longer seen at Wildwood Park.

I guess his job was done.

Thank you, stork.




 

Poetry-Grandkids

 

Poetry copyrighted by Dale Bicksler, 2017                                  Poetry Themes