A bit of prose published in Dec. issue of YCN

 Without a Phone

By Janet Sobczyk, 2020

As I backed my car out of the driveway, I realized my cell phone was left charging on the kitchen counter. I stopped, preparing to dash in for it. Then paused, thinking “Why? I can go shopping without it.” 

Confidently, I continued to back up. Then, braked. 

The “what-if’s” took over my mind. What if I get in an accident? What if I see an item that I want to ask my friend’s opinion about? (It’s fun and helpful to take her shopping via photo texts.) What if I’m running late to pick up my daughter from school? What if, what if, what if!! 

Impetuously, I brushed aside the doubts and left without my phone. Some would call that foolish. I call it a flashback to the 80’s. 

On the drive to the store my mind wandered back in time. Before cells, I’d head out the door with less expectation that something would go wrong. I had less fear of distracted drivers. I noticed acquaintances at the store that I now miss while checking my screen for texts. I spent more time in face-to-face interaction with actual conversation, not just cute tweets. 

Back then my watch informed the time, and didn’t make noises to grab attention. I could lose track of time and be more fully in the moment. I took in more of the world around me. 

I smiled thinking back to those “good old days” when we had it made with modern conveniences and a little bit of technology. It was cool to have electric curling irons that enabled those big hairstyles, and we weren’t yet obsessed with selfies. Capturing events on film or Polaroids seemed good enough. 

I parked near the shopping carts and grabbed one on my way into the store, thinking about how the way we pay has changed so much. Writing checks and carrying cash used to be common. Now all we need is a card to shop in person or online. Good thing I had my wallet in my purse and didn’t need my phone to pay. Some people now have phone apps to pay, but I don’t. That’s where I draw the line (for now). 

Walking into the store I reached for the sale flyer, flipped through it quickly and realized there wasn’t even one coupon to clip. And this store has discontinued their “rewards card” program which gave the sale prices. A mini rewards card dangled uselessly on my keyring. I looked up thinking, “The sales probably ring up automatically at the register.” Then I spied the kiosk near the entrance. Scan these specials with your phone to get our great deals today! 

I turned on a dime and headed home for my phone.

The pic above was taken long before cell phones. Check out my 1980 hair which defied gravity. That took time, a good curling iron, and lots of hairspray! 

"Puzzling" dedicated to my brother

 Puzzling

By Janet Sobczyk, 2020
Dedicated to Jon Blide, 1968-2020

Jigsaw puzzles can be reassuring.
They start as a jumbled mess
but when the last piece is in place
are beautiful and whole.
Much like our own lives
messy, confusing
slow to come together
 beauty concealed
until all is revealed at the end.
 
Now, after a sudden loss,
the puzzle of that person’s life and death
brings us pain, not peace
confusion instead of consolation
shock halts thinking
can’t make sense of the pieces.

Try to sort them out
only a few on the edge
line up.
What about the rest?
Time passes
waiting is rewarded with another piece
more waiting
another piece
we want them all
but time is stingy with pieces. 

When everything has been said
and done
only then will we see
we don’t have all the pieces.

 

We need it all to fit
we want all the answers!
Do we keep searching for pieces
or let go and wait for them to come?

It’s our choice…
regret the gaps or
find the beauty in the partial picture of a loved one's life.

"Waiting for Snow" published in Dec. issue of YCN

 

Waiting for Snow

By Janet Sobczyk, 2020

The photo is by editor Stephen Hassler and appears with my poem in Your Country Neighbor. I like his choice of snow geese to pair with my snow poem.

I wrote the Adulthood side of the poem first, thinking about how much I dread winter with its cold and dangerous roads. I try not to let it, but the dread starts to set in at the end of summer and somewhat ruins autumn for me. Then I started thinking about how differently I viewed snow as a child, and the other half of the poem poured out quickly, providing much-needed balance. 

To view the entire Dec. issue, click here: Your Country Neighbor

"Treatless" published in Nov. 20 YCN

Treatless
by Janet Sobczyk, 2020

        Deep in the night I had a dream 
        Woke with a jolt feeling green 
        What does it mean? 

        It was barely dusk on Halloween 
        Too early for the typical teen 
        Deep in the night I had a dream 

        Moms with princess tots waited like queens 
        On front porch undecorated but clean 
        What does it mean? 

        I searched for treats… a tangerine? 
        Half-eaten bunny or stale jelly beans? 
        Deep in the night I had a dream 

        Not much to offer or redeem 
        Cupboard to cupboard, I wanted to scream! 
        What does it mean? 

        I deserved the guillotine 
        Couldn’t the Great Pumpkin intervene? 
        Deep in the night I had a dream 
        But what does it mean?

This was actually a dream I had shortly before Halloween.
It seemed like a good topic to try a villanelle poem format.

Poetry Book Review

This wonderful little book left me in awe!

It was published in 2004 by Helen Frost, a talented poet whose poems are "deceptively casual" according to an online review of her work. So true!!

This book contains poems written in the voices of fictional students in a 5th grade class with a fictional teacher. The people are composites of characters Frost encountered through years as a teacher. The scenarios and trials of the students resonate with my own teacher heart. A quick first read of this "novel in poems from Room 214" was enjoyable, and left me content with the story and voices of the children.  

At the end I was completely satisfied, but then I read the "Notes on Forms" at the back. I could have easily skipped it, but reading it changed my whole impression of this small book.

In my eyes it became a huge accomplishment when I understood that Frost used 22 different poem forms. Twenty-two!! At first glance the poems appear simple, but the Notes explain each form, and leave the reader intrigued to try them. 

Shortly before reading this book I tried creating a villanelle, ghazal, and sonnet with a poetry group. It felt like a major victory to finish them, so I can appreciate the challenge of following strict formats. 

The one that blew my mind was her Crown of Sonnets titled, "It's Hard to Fit In." According to her Notes, a crown is a "set of seven Italian sonnets, linked through repeated lines. The last line of one sonnet is the first line of the next (sometimes with minor variations), and the last line of the last sonnet circles back to the first line of the first sonnet." I had a hard time writing one sonnet poorly, and Frost created seven that fit perfectly together! Mind-blowing! Such a gift!

There's one other reason I'm glad to have read the notes... it pointed out that many of the poems were acrostics, which I had failed to notice. I thumbed through the book again to find them and read with delight all the hidden messages. Such fun!

I highly encourage poetry lovers to check out her website helenfrost.net and this detailed interview and Blog review by Michelle Barnes.  Enjoy!

 

"A Year After the Flood" in Oct. YCN

For our anniversary over Labor Day we returned to one of our favorite spots, the River Inn in Brownville, NE. We had wanted to come in 2019 but the summer flooding prevented it. This time, after so many months at home due to Covid, we especially enjoyed the chance to get away from the city and spend time on the river.

The Inn has a rustic feel yet provides amenities that non-campers like us require: a good bed, nice bathroom, and a hearty breakfast. We took the dinner cruise on the Spirit of Brownville, which gave us a glimpse of the changes brought by the flooding. We talked with other passengers and crew, and heard about the struggles the people of Brownville have faced. 

The next morning as the sun rose over the east bank, I sat on the deck watching the birds. I thought about the dredge upstream that was almost washed away, and the effort it took to save. This poem is a result of those quiet moments alone.

"A Year After the Flood"

By Janet Sobczyk, 2020

Fresh foliage creeps over eroded banks

 wild sunflowers bloom as if nothing happened

 but the trees bear scars

 tangled drifted debris whispers the tale.

 The Captain Meriwether Lewis Dredge Museum

 floats secure in its dry-docked moat

 imagine the struggle by tugs, chains, men

 working 16-hour days to contain it in high water.

 It rose, bucking to break free of moorings

 they held on with all their might

 restrained it from a rampage

 prevented catastrophe downstream.

 It rests silent and sullen in its defeat, bested this time

 a little worse for wear, but not broken

 peers from its perch above the now-lazy river

 calls me back to watch the sunrise with it again.

 As swallows dart and eagles soar

 mist rises from the ever-flowing surface

 sun’s rays shoo wisps away

 ushers in a clear day

 washes the dredge in light

 its twin smokestacks stand tall

 white decks await tourists

 kept away by Covid and a damaged road.

 The town waits, too

 it survives as Midwest people tend to do

 shops closed for now

 but restaurant still serves, so does the bar.

 There’s hope as a new store opens

 a sign of growth in a small town

 that understands the damage a river can do

 while it sustains life, too. 

This poem is dedicated to the people of Brownville, 

with gratitude for your hospitality and admiration for your fortitude.

"Stereotype" poem published in Oct. YCN

 Shattering the Stereotype 

Janet Sobczyk, 2020 

The black Harley stands shiny 
next to a grey, dusty Camry
 their drivers and wives vastly different
 on roads that converged
 in this parking lot
 at this Inn
 to open the mind of one of them.

The tanned couple
 in black boots and slim jeans, Harley logo shirts
 tells tales that amaze
 of rallies in towns across many states
 of 30+ years riding close, her front to his back
 avoiding the interstate
 seeing sights that few knew.

The other couple
 in sneakers and extra-large jeans
 not well-traveled, raised five kids
 has little to contribute to this conversation
 of scenes and sights
 and adventure
but curious, keeps asking questions.

 The men have nothing in common
 but the women connect
 share a love of books, including the bible
 both enjoy quiet time with nature
 the biker wife resembles the other’s sister
 who thinks this could have been Sis’s life,
 she would have loved the open road.

 Their differences fade as dusk settles into dark
 they tell of tomorrow’s plans, retreat to their rooms
 meet for breakfast, then
 one couple vrooms away
 to see covered bridges in Madison County
 the other drives to KC
 to see their grandbaby.

Janet with grand-baby Ruth