Poem: The Nap before Prom

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The Nap before Prom

Both my high schoolers are attending Prom tomorrow night

The White tux with silver vest and tie has been picked up

the fushia strapless dress has been hemmed

The shoes and clutch are bought

the hair is planned

tomorrow morning the flowers are arranged into the expected gifts

Car loads of parents meet up to snap photos of the group

the limo arrives

Then the waiting begins

Prom night my husband and I sit up

putting toothpicks under our eye lids

scheduling one pickup at 1 am for the younger

actively texting the where abouts of the older

A tired Sunday for all in the house

Today warrents the Nap

(Erin McGee Ferrell April 26, 2013)

Poem: Ants in the Bouquet

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Ants in the Bouquet

For last years Prom I made the bouquet for my son’s date

May Peonies and Tulips from my garden

White fluffy, fragrant, full blossoms tinged with pink

Lovingly cut and arranged with ribbon

gingerly placed in the fridge for the big night

the ants unseen quietly retreated into the depths

I thought they had gone…only asleep

until the warm restaurant table an hour after the photos

a hundred small moving insects exploring

this year my son begged me not to make to bouquet

(Erin McGee Ferrell April 25, 2013)

Poem: Only in Maine

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Only in Maine

Only in Maine can I be nominated to be Board President after 5 months of living here

Yes I have the education and the creditials to hold the post

Yes I am the right person to do the job

but only in Maine would this have happened

The long winter has gone to be replaced by buds and sun

unfolding the tight wings

slowly…starting to see the fun in this

Only in Maine can these things happen

(ErinMcGeeFerrell April 25, 2013)

Poem: Yoga Pants

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Yoga Pants

Portland, Maine airport 4:30 am

High school trip to Beijing

“Daughter, where is your passport?”

It is here, she motions, patting the waistband of her pocket-less yoga pants

Visions of airplane toilets with documents floating in blue liquid

China public restrooms with holes in floor to nowhere

Please child, take that small book holding your safety and return

and remove it from the elastic of those exercise leggings.

(Erin McGee Ferrell April 12, 2013)

Poem: Twisting the Molar

Twisting the Molar

My ten year old walks in holding her bloody molar

“More money mom; I keep on twisting the molars.”

We are in the season of loosing teeth

falling out of her mouth

Sleep disturbed tooth fairy missions depleting cash stores

add the object to my box of collected teeth from three children over seventeen years

The thought to drill holes and create a tooth necklace

A symbol of Mother pride

(Erin McGee Ferrell April 12, 2013)