Everglade drifting

Annette Marie Hyder

Sugarcane runs long fingers
through the sky’s curly clouds.
Gators spank the river bank
with disciplinary tails.
Mosquitoes drape the shoreline
like Spanish Moss hanging on the trees.
The sky is a bleached denim blue
so soft
I decide to wear just that —
like a favorite old frayed shirt —
as I drift in my canoe.

Storytelling is editing on the fly

You can’t include everything in a snapshot. There were herons in that picture and there was a shy and bashful breeze. There were tortoises, red-tailed hawks and a rattlesnake in a tree. I left them out but couldn’t resist giving just a peek.

Summer has come

Annette Marie Hyder
(first week of summer 2011)

flowers are twining her hair
like roses climbing a trellis
petals tumble
fat and slow like honey
the wind shakes them
like a pale tremble of wheat

and Summer lets
her Rapunzel tresses
waterfall down the tower
in a golden sheet
of rippling sunlight.

Don’t you want to grab a handful?

Raindrops dance in the air

“Look how the raindrops dance in the air,” he says. The raindrops are
arrested in their momentum. The wind blows just so, tilting into the
rain so that instead of falling, the raindrops — just as he says —

It’s a beautiful image and a striking way of expressing
the observation of said image. I want more of his poetry and tell him he
should write the line down and write a poem. He tells me he makes
poetry every day. I say, “I want to read it!” He says, “You have to hear
it instead. I don’t write any of it down.”

He told me the line was for me, but I am writing it down for him. You never know, he might want it some day: “Raindrops dance in the air.”

Your Poem

Annette Marie Hyder

Cloud cover, rain and thunder
make me snuggle under
the blankets deeper.
Your words are thick like rainclouds
and make me thirst for storms.

I want to wind myself in them
be wrapped up in their cocoon
and I’m not coming out
until the poem is over.

A walk in the rain on Saturday

Photo by Jasmine Rain Hyder

Purple, yellow, black and sage, color this rainy bumblebee page

Wending our way in the rain with red rainboots and a shared umbrella, my daughter and I came across this busy bumblebee. He hit every one of those flowers while we watched. He looked like he was intoxicated by the nectar, not so much breezing from flower to flower as bumping like a black and yellow go-kart from sip to sip. So many flowers, so little time…

Father’s Day 2011: Running on the rocks

Beach Cliffs

As my brother tells it, I was following him as was my wont. Whatever my big brother did, I wanted to do also.

Running on the rocks beside the roaring surf of the Maryland coastline? Yes and yes. And just as you’d suspect, my shorter legs did not serve me well in keeping up with my big brother. In fact, the story goes, I tripped and fell tumbling headlong for the sea and that could have been, probably would have been, the end of me — I imagine myself swept out in the tides embrace — had not my father heroed me.

Daddy saved me — ran like a madman as he saw first the impending disaster, then the slow motion actuality of me tripping and the start of my tumble to the sea. He caught me by the scruff of my dress at neck and the hem of my dress at knee and threw me over his shoulder as he fell himself on the rocks breaking his leg but stopping his own fall into the hissing cauldron of waves by holding on to the granite outcrop with arms so big and strong I felt, as I lay bleeding from my fall to sharp safety, that he could hold the sky up with those arms, he could beat the sea with his fists and subdue its wild waves.

My Daddy saved me. He broke his leg in doing so and at the same time some restraint in me that had been in place broke also, let loose, and ever since and ever after I still find myself, I will find myself, running on the rocks.

Happy Father’s Day!

Happy Father’s day to all the little girl’s heroes and grown up daughter’s dads, the fathers of sons young and old. A father shapes and influences his children in countless ways. Even his absence will leave its mark.

Links of interest:

Dad’s good parenting may help daughters avoid risky sex
Study showing father’s influence: Dads can sway daughters towards math, science (PDF)
The Impact of Fathers

Scissor Happy

Annette Marie Hyder

The wind, a pair of scissors
in the sky’s (stage decorator’s) hands today,
cuts tree leaf shadows into the bright pavement
creating chiaroscuro at my feet.

Meanwhile the clouds rehearse for Armageddon
stacked up in terrifying heights
and stage makeuped  black and green
to go with their white.