Tag: family

Poetry by Patrick JenningsOct 13, 20157:00 am

Mother and Child

She kept him swaddled up
Against the cold
Against her chest
Where he could easily
Reach her breast

He snuggled in
Rested his chest
Against her heart
Which she loved

Abstract by Patrick JenningsSep 19, 201511:09 am

Houston, we have a problem

When I was a kid we had one of those huge station wagons with the fake wood side trim and a jump seat that faced backwards. My dad loved to drive, so every weekend we’d pile into the car, all six of us, and go for drives through the central New Jersey countryside.

Poetry by Patrick JenningsAug 20, 20157:00 am

The Children of Kashgar

They run amok
These unwashed ragamuffins
My mother would say
But they are happy

Happy and curious
Enthralled with
The foreigner
And his camera

Poetry by Patrick JenningsAug 5, 20157:30 am

A moment shared

There are few things more satisfying
Than sharing something new and beautiful
With family

Poetry by Patrick JenningsAug 4, 20159:00 am

The Fog of Love

Continued from Enveloped.

I feel her, on the other side.
Know she is there.
Waiting.

Impatiently.

A mother knows these things.

And daughters always think they know better,
When they hardly know themselves.

I love the man.
She never understood that.
He is derisive,
Angers easily.

Abstract by Patrick JenningsJun 30, 20158:56 pm

The Turquoise River

She looked at the long, thin meandering crack trailing down the foundation wall like a coursing river. She felt compelled to trail her finger over the length of it, feeling the raspy turquoise concrete, cool under her fingertip.

“I’ll have to go get some sealant,” her husband had told her.

“But that will ruin the paint,” she replied, with an emotion that surprised her. “I don’t have any more.”

“You have to fix it before it gets out of hand.”

“But it’s such a small crack!”

He paused.

Poetry by Patrick JenningsApr 27, 20157:00 am

Now we are five

Five

We were six
Now we are five

I just need something…
Something to focus on
Something other than what was