Telling Stories

It’s taking my time
spending it ruminating
and recording
random thoughts
that catch me.

Sitting in the near-empty
New Orleans River Walk food court
shortly after the assaults by
Hurricanes Katrina then Rita.

Or in the Magazine Street cafes-
free internet signals
and weak hot chocolate,
stuffed with people
sitting together and alone
mocking city-wide damages
behaving
like pre-disaster days.

Early morning hours
in Boston
at my friends’ kitchen table
before our day begins in earnest.

I’m slow to get going
for reveling in being free.
It excites me so, until
I’m at first struck dumb.
Then through ritual
and determination
reminding me
it’s time to write something;
the dam is broken
words, ideas, stories
come falling out of me.

If you didn’t catch
my intimation
that time
is rarely on my side,
now I’ve said it plain.
It is my constraint;
never wanting to rush,
I rarely have enough time
to just sit and be with things.

©2008 by Shari Lynne Smothers

I thought cameras on cell phones
was really quite a waste
until I traveled to Johannesburg, South Africa.

The youths in the group
soon ran out of film
and my stores I had to limit.
After I shared my max,
they pulled out their cell phones
to continue taking pictures
. . . and I thought better of it.

Then I thought,
Cell phones to talk
is that too much to ask?
What’s the point of music
and texting and internet surfing?
until—
Hurricane Katrina hit and
knocked out all communications
save for one, can you guess?
Voice calls were intermittent at best.
But we could with some reliability
send and receive text messages.

I’ve given up on keeping ahead,
content with being able to
catch up to changes.
I’m stowing my cell phone
innovation skepticism.
Since just recently I sent my first email
from Gmail my web-based service,
I’m fully on board with all the new junk.
I’m getting an 8GB 3G iPhone.

© 2008 by Shari Lynne Smothers