Tuesday, January 21, 2025

KIcking and Dragging of Feet on the Way to Net Zero

There is still much more that can be done to reclaim the earth as we once knew it, if people are willing.

On a side note, I will be traveling in February so I won't burden you with poems that month.


Kicking and Dragging of Feet

     on the Way to Net Zero


Earth-friendly garbage bags split

en route to the chute, releasing

your own trashy words.


You describe the "trickle" from a water-

saving shower-head in similar terms.


Recycled paper products not as thirsty,

napkins not thick enough, too rough

on your face.


Nor will reclaimed paperwork serve

                  for the printer.


Apparently, only eco-friendly TP tissue

                   poses no issue.


You defend your Jeep like it's a beloved

   family member even though it chugs

         fossil fuel and farts carbon.


And yet you willingly toss old clothes

            into the Good Will bag.


A compromise:

for you - patently plastic rubbish bags

for myself - reprocessed paper towels

for us - a give-and-take on environment


Then I remember:

              first steps are always the hardest.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Tuesday, January 7, 2025

Denial

I will never forget my first encounter with a patient who had cancer. As an inexperienced neophyte it left a lasting impression on me.


Denial


A stalker found harbor in the breast

of a young farm woman,


grew silently until the alien burst

through her skin, leaking, reeking

like a cesspit.


She could no longer ignore the specter.


The farmer's wife spoke of spring

calving, of two unexpected breeches,

almost in apology for inattention to herself.


But the disease had moldered far longer

than the heifers giving birth.


At twenty-six, I smiled at her and stifled a gag.


Her oozing mortality sent cracks

through my own safety shield, her presence

pointing to the fallow field that awaited me.


I repackaged her wound. My mind whirled

with making an escape for a hasty self-exam.


The woman's husband sat dazed ---

like a storm had just wiped out his crops ---

and fiddled with his worn baseball cap, mutely.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor



Black Sheep

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