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{June 25, 2014}   Gotta Love Grandmothers

Clippings

Clippings

The other day my mother and I were going over more boxes. (They are endless!) My paternal grandmother died years ago, but there are still boxes of stuff hanging around that were cleaned out of her house. My father never got a chance to sort through them before he passed away. My mother is determined to dig into the sheds and get through them during the summer months. (It’s easier emotionally than going through my father’s stuff or her own…besides, this stuff is OLD and smelly and she can do it outside.)

My grandmother was a clipper, especially as her memory started to go and she stayed inside all the time. She clipped out recipes, she clipped out poems, she clipped out news stories. There are many boxes just full of yellowed newspaper clippings. Why don’t we just toss them you might ask? Well, here’s a perfect example of why we don’t.

In one box my mother found an old Reader’s Digest envelope labeled in my grandmother’s neat writing: All Susan’s Clippings.

My grandmother had cut out the articles published in the local newspaper for every time I made the honor roll or appeared in the school play. They were tucked into my high school graduation program. Her efforts were touching enough, but I found a treasure in there.

I mentioned in previous posts that the first poem I ever had published was in the editorial section of The Boston Globe. I had just turned 16 at the time, so even though it is a “silly” poem, I’m still proud of it. But I didn’t have a copy. I’m sure I kept one at the time, but it was easily misplaced over the course of many moves and 40 years. Bless my grandmother…there was a copy in her little envelope! Nobody but a diehard Red Sox fan would probably understand it, but here it is…

Red Sox Poem

My First Published Poem



{October 28, 2011}   The Fall of a Boston Baseball Fan

As I was going through old poems for a chapbook project I am working on, I found this one.  It wasn’t dated, but it was a long time ago: back in the days when Bobby Orr advertised BankBoston (in the drought between Stanley Cups) and before the Patriots new stadium was built (and when the grass was real), in a year when football players were on strike.  Reading it over, though, I thought the sentiment was still relevant.  The end of the Red Sox season was so ugly and all the controversy does not make for an enjoyable hot stove season.

The Fall of a Boston Baseball Fan

One morning

I’m suddenly cold

Without a coat,

And there are

No more

Baseball games.

The season was lost

Long ago,

But I feel it now.

Peak color snuck away,

Dragging with it

Summer’s green grass,

Leaving a brown-tipped

Breed to the football teams

Whose heavy feet

Pound picket lines this year.

The green worn

By our basketball team, in

Dry-heated indoors

Only makes me dream

Of spring air,

And opening day,

Too far away.

Hockey games

Have begun,

But I still miss

Bobby Orr.

His bank commercials

And grey suits

Make me shiver,

Or maybe it’s just

The coming

Of winter.



et cetera
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