Author: Susan Manners

Victorious Triumphant Pose

I basked last night in Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.

A split second after the miraculous winning shot swished through the hoop.

The ball left his hands with .4 seconds on the clock.
His moment. Glory. Satisfaction. Joy.

Kris Jenkins’ victorious triumphant pose, arms held high, makes my heart happy.

I considered the images of my day, the 24 hours
Before…
Kris Jenkins’ magical shot
Before…
Kris Jenkin’s victorious triumphant pose, arms held high.

My day
1. Gorgeous sunset slipping behind a valley of purple flowers and ambling horses
2. Golden sunrise glow illuminating puffy clouds streaking clear morning sky
3. Annie the basset hound bounding joyfully shaking long floor sweeping ears
4. Sprouting tiny green leaf buds surrounding miniature berry clusters
5. Massage table draped for me with orange oil aromatherapy in the head cradle
6. Happy 87th Birthday surprise Mom your grandson & youngest great-granddaughter
6. Baby Eloise gleefully calling “snack” for one dried strawberry after another
7. A Pit special cooked medium rare with lettuce, tomato and sweet potato fries
8. My purring Pierre the cat curled on the back of the sofa behind my head

Me, victorious triumphant pose, 2 arms held high.

Sun-Spots

I return to my regular sunset spot
Cold for early April bundled in down
Layers on layers loving the cold air wind
Bracing my face as spots fill my vision
From bright sun staring waiting waiting
The fresh green leaf buds on low
Hanging branches exciting my heart
Beyond the fence rolling hill meadow
Glows periwinkle with fresh spring carpet
White brushed on clouds frame sinking
Orange flare I’m suddenly conscious of
Stereo birdsong filling the thin crisp air
As beams cast huge shadows a distant white
Horse trots uphill ambling like a polar bear
I smile my sun-spot filled eyes deceive
I stand quiet waiting waiting silent still
As the last erupting orange bit dissolves

The Chair

I thought you’d love me…
You saw that tiny bit of me
And infatuation took over
Anticipation fantasy hope
Keeping the space I’d fill empty
You imagined me for a month
Beautifully filling the space
Now I’m here and I see the
Sideways glances yearning to
Love me but barely lukewarm
I was always green and shiny
You cover me with a blanket
A blue pillow might help
It’s suggested you drape a
Sheet over me “it’s sad you
Are so disappointed.” of you
She says. I boil. What about me?
I have to stay here in duplicate
Shiny green and unloved for
As long as you can stand me
Or until I change your mind

Faulty Equipment

Her face drained color white heat radiated
Blinking light, crackling static, fading image
The gray screen shrunk away to hopeless
Nothing
A rude introduction to futility
Despair’s most eminent envoy
Impossible became her reality
Commands repeated desperate
Tracking attempts failed
Clearly her fate was cinched
There was no map… or miracle
Her capabilities were never questioned
It was the equipment that was faulty

Evening Glow

“I know you are tired and hungry,
But there’s an amazing sunset
Glow out there” I follow her
Gaze through bright-lit window
My camera was in the bag
I was tired and hungry
But the golden orange sunset
Glow bisected the trees across
The street a diagonal slash
Above burning bright gray
Brown shade below that border
Topped by a glow of searing fire
My camera and me outside

Driving Home

Stripe sash horizon smolders
Mottled coral sun drone hovers
Astride azure sky skirting
Leafless skeletons officiating
Mellow discordant palettes

Pink and blue dappled sky
Waning winter evening light
Pearly pastel floating puffs
A baby shower basket
Welcome sweet softness

Perspective

When he was 8 he always wore a hat
Never took it off it was a fight and struggle
For his mother who was partial to pink
And flounces of pink everything pink
Or should I say she always wore a hat?
That’s how we’d have described it then
That’s the part (one part) that’s hard when
Talking about the past is it she or he?
Because this person we love was she to us
If not (secretly) to himself for all those years

The hat was a problem at the school where kids
Were not allowed to wear hats to class
Back then I used to take him/her (you can see why
“They” and “ them” is preferred to he or she
But for a family where grammar and language
Is important the struggle to pluralize the singular
Is nearly impossible) along on work appointments
I’d call at 3 when he got home from school and say
I have to drive to Coatesville or Newark
I’d pick him up and he’d ride along in his hat

One clear full moon night when he was 5
He rode with me from my parents’ house
(His grand-parents house) to pick up
A pizza and we watched the moon follow the car
I told him about perspective from my 30-year
Old perspective he understood and I marveled at
His understanding of point of view and difference

In that year of the hat when he was 8 he asked
His father if they knew any gay people
“Susan’s gay” surprisingly this came as a surprise to him
Rendering him silent for a day “what’s the matter?”
“Everyone says I’m like Susan and I don’t want to be gay”

Later, queer was his word not gay or lesbian I didn’t
Understand at the time but now it’s clear like
The hat he wouldn’t remove for a year when we all
Tried to find hats for him that matched our
Perspective for a girl in 1990 when he was always a boy