(class assignment)
Last week, my sister's beloved lovebird, Tico, died. Becky had been stressed for weeks, studying night and day in preparation for her "comps," examinations required for graduate study in English. Becky has neglected her own wants and needs, let alone those of the exuberant bird. But now it was too late; she'd never see her peach-faced friend again. Heartbroken, she blamed herself for Tico's illness and passing. For example, Becky had recently lost her patience with Tico's relentless, high-pitched shrieking, particularly during study hours. To discourage these outbursts, Becky covered Tico's cage with a towel, banishing her to another room. The shrieking grew worse; however; perhaps Tico was trying to tell her she was sick. Becky, however, had been too wrapped up in her studies to notice. And now Becky was holding herself in contempt, as if she had been a negligent mother who had ignored the cries of her hungry infant.
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memoir. Show all posts
Sunday, December 27, 2009
The Lover Who Would Stay (poem - 1993)
class assignment - poem using metaphor (smoking compared to a dangerous lover)
Fifteen years old with time on my hands, thought I'd take you up on a dare.
To Marlboro Country, that's where I went. Tried to ride your wicked, black mare.
By the time I had met you, you had been through all my friends.
But I was your baby chick; they had been a "bunch of hens."
Fifteen years old with time on my hands, thought I'd take you up on a dare.
To Marlboro Country, that's where I went. Tried to ride your wicked, black mare.
By the time I had met you, you had been through all my friends.
But I was your baby chick; they had been a "bunch of hens."
Muirkirk Road (first short story - 1995)
(class assignment)
The year was 1969. I was a first grader, flaxen-haired and blue-eyed. Like other first graders, I was apprehensive about attending school all day long. Adrift in a sea of faces, I often longed for the security of home. Many of my new classmates had brown skin, something I had seen before, but only at a distance. Mom referred to these people as "Negroes" or "blacks." The black kids lived on Muirkirk Road, in old houses and trailers. Fascinated with them, I quickly became friends with several of the girls in my class. But I was particularly taken with Bruce Morgan, the class clown. He was the most popular kid in our class, winning his many fans during recess with his impressions of Motown stars. I both envied and admired his talents.
The year was 1969. I was a first grader, flaxen-haired and blue-eyed. Like other first graders, I was apprehensive about attending school all day long. Adrift in a sea of faces, I often longed for the security of home. Many of my new classmates had brown skin, something I had seen before, but only at a distance. Mom referred to these people as "Negroes" or "blacks." The black kids lived on Muirkirk Road, in old houses and trailers. Fascinated with them, I quickly became friends with several of the girls in my class. But I was particularly taken with Bruce Morgan, the class clown. He was the most popular kid in our class, winning his many fans during recess with his impressions of Motown stars. I both envied and admired his talents.
Labels:
busing,
creative writing,
memoir,
race relations,
short stories
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