A Death in the Family

Since one of our Chief Justices has been in the news lately, I would like to pay homage to another one. One whom I miss dearly. 

On a different note, I will be traveling to multiple places this coming month, and I will be taking a break from my poetry. Be aware that the next time I post a poem will not be until the end of May. 

A Death in the Family

Up north, a panorama dipped

in the gold of coins alongside

vistas bathed in safety-vest orange

and burning bush scarlet.

                    Ruth Bader Ginsberg. A fiery ball

                    on the High Court. Lace collar

                    in a tweed world.

Easy to grow accustomed

to vibrancy, disregard

the diminishing daylight.

But unlike the leaves of fall, RBG's judgments won't fade.

                      Her legacy marching forward

                      with coed cadets at VMI.

                      Her Solomon wisdom embedded

                      in every fair paycheck printed.

                      Her mark guaranteeing Mary Barras,

                      Sheryl Sandbergs and the like.

Justice Ginsberg's death a jolt

to activists filing their nails instead

of petitions. And Jane Roe weeps.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor 

             

First Gig, First Boss

I recently found an old scrapbook that I had kept during my high school years. And came across a faded photo I had forgotten about.

First Gig, First Boss

I

Old enough for a summer job

at sixteen: assistant camp cook.

Fancy cakes and icings laced

my thoughts: dreams in overdrive.

Plain brownies and dishwashing:

the reality.

A salary of $100 total: checks

cut for the season at the wrap up.

That paystub: scotch-taped

alongside a snapshot of my boss.

II

A farmwife in a washed-out apron,

escaping into the background

like a cheshire cat without the grin.

I never knew, or more likely, never

held, Cookie's real name. I never saw

her taste a smile even on picture day.

In her fifties or forties? A son fighting

in Viet Nam? Why the need for extra

cash? Unpaid bills? Widowed? Children?

An authority figure soon forgotten by this

teen. But her photo, haunting the adult me,

offers only a figure in shadow.

Marilyn Aschoff Mellor