Sun tumbles down a morning.
Old Peg (as we are wont to call her)
greets it innerly, bigly;
a big strong woman with a big gold tooth,
she's off to the newest demonstrable.
Today it's off to the Big Occupy,
Peg grinning out
(We have not all and always been gracious,
nor will we, we watchers, and neighbours,
we prim-proper enforcers.)
Front to face, old neighbours, grouch friends,
hypocrites over the back fence, well wish her,
(but really! her age at that?)
head shakes and tongue clicks;
(my goodness and after all! Tsk. Tsk.)
Oblivious, our Peg neverminds,
goes about her overnight duffle to pack:
nightgown, tooth stuff and unders;
the journal, the poems,
the special dark chocolate lovingly tucked;
oops! the small change for the phone call,
a list of which lawyer to call,
in case of arrest be prepared is her thinking.
Six-thirty bright morning
to the bus barn, in at the side door,
through to the questions,
the smell of the oil-and-tire-stinky barn,
to the bus;
where high on anticipatories,
Peg settles back of the driver,
fierce red hair in a bun
a bit abob of her,
her bosom ever-so-slightly apuff
with her pleasure.
A grunt and a whoof-puff of noise,
and out goes the bus,
with its down-the-street-whines,
(we behindsides; Peg
rolling along in her lack of responsible way);
resplendent in her happysuns day,
her good (o! good gracious!)
heart felt and goodbye.
I came upon this exuberant character-driven poem in the latest issue
of Rabbit, a local Melbourne magazine, that is also exuberant, and
fresh as paint, fresh as a daisy, full of delights, and new voices.
Because the poet is new to me I will add her biography that is in the
back of Rabbit. Because when I read the poem and really, really
liked it, I turned to the back for the biography to see where on earth
she was. Milwaukee, so it seems.
Barbara Lightner lives in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA. She received
a BA in English Literature from Smith College. She has been published
by Verse Wisconsin, Poesia, New Verse News, and Occupoetry.