The sun was up and so was Charlie.

                                                 Rachel's getting married.

down the rabbit hole

for Alice

what do I believe?

I believe in you.
and I believe in your scribbles.
add
a buddha.
a kind word
and
santa claus
and goodness.

this is what I believe.

Grandpa Scott, drawn by me, age 6

I find my drawing of him

I was six

and I remember

the star shaped clock

that hung on the wall

He sits in the yellow chair

the one by the gossamer curtains

and his bookshelf

that holds the near and dear

his pipe

Prince Albert

and tootsie pops

he puffs

on his pipe

smiling

that’s what he did

smile

he leans forward

one hand

reaching

for his walker

drawn in profile

it is placed

in front of the tv

with the red pedestal

bowl

the drawing

leaves out

his missing teeth

and me

missing him

I find my drawing of him

stuck in the middle of King Lear

in my mom’s faded book of Shakespeare.

MaryJo Scott

I wish I had….

A house

that had heat

in the kitchen

and

a banister

and light fixtures

in the living room

and

the dining room

and

the hallway

upstairs and down.

I wish I had

a house

by the sea

with furniture

made of silver grey

driftwood

and

shells for knobs

on creaky doors

that lead

outside

down one step

off the porch

onto a sandy path

lined with whispery reeds

that tell me secrets

all the way

to roaring blue

water.

                                 I Roll Down the Hill

Grandpa’s hill

it is shorter

than I remember

and I get dizzier

than I remember

but

the feeling

is the same

freedom

mixed with damp grass

and dirt

good dirt

the kind that smells

of earthworms

I roll down the hill

all the way

to Joe Consoli’s house

I lay at the bottom

and look up

at my Grandpa’s house

and there they are

Grandpa and Joe Consoli

sitting on the porch

together

laughing

telling me to roll again

Grandpa pointing with his cane

I get to my feet

stand still for a second

to balance

myself

lightheaded

I walk back up

to the

wraparound porch

and hold onto

the railing

where Grandpa’s chair

should be

the sky is so blue

the shadows long

a robin sings solo

I didn’t know

one could see

the

Green Mountains

from here

Grandpa’s hill.