Haiku inspired by Morikami Museum

The sound of my shoes

Breaks the silence of the fog.

Forgive my entrance.

 

The trees move slowly

Against the cold morning skies…

Or is it the fog?

 

The sound of geta…

A Samurai’s swinging sword..

A  silence, broken.

 

 

Haiku inspired by photo: frances kakugawa

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Wordsworth in Germany

Wordsworth is now in Germany with Teresa and her grandson.

Teresa was a first grader in my Jackson ,Michigan class years ago.

Some quotes from Teresa…on how Wordsworth is making a difference.

I am in Germany visiting my 4.5 year old grandson Henry. We had a long car trip today, so we read Wordsworth Dances the Waltz, which I had brought along to share.

I got a little choked up reading parts of it, thinking of my own mom sitting in the nursing home room by herself most days. The story is beautifully written and illustrated.  It is the first Wordsworth book we have read.  I read it aloud in the car, so everyone heard the story, although only Henry and I saw the pictures.

Henry learned what a poet was, but I remember Wordsworth the Poet explains what a poet is much better than Me!  Henry was very curious about the children doing Karate.  He also counted 1-2-3 each time it came up in the story.  Of course, being a dancer, I counted 1-2-3 to the proper waltz beat.  I told him I would teach him how to dance the Waltz when we get back to Berlin!

While riding in the car, we then played the Wordsworth’s Rubber Band game with the clouds.  Henry has a vivid imagination!

This past week we spent a lot of time touring Bavaria and castles and going on hikes in the woods.  Henry protected us from dragons and wild animals with his wooden sword (or a stick if we left the sword in the car).  It was nice to see him so interested in everything around him, whether it be informational signs with animal footprints or tree leaves, new playground structures, patterns on the pavement stones, or learning to read a map.

Henry told me he wanted to read the other Wordsworth books too.  I have a good idea now for his Christmas gift!

Your gift of writing has had an enormous impact all over the world, to all ages, and all types of people.  You are a gift to all of us, as you encourage us to look inside of ourselves and find love, grace, imagination and creativity.  Thank you.  ❤️ Teresa

I taught her well, didn’t I? This came in later from Teresa:

I told Henry that you taught me to read. And then later you taught me to be a poet too, by trying to write like Frances did in her poems. And then, even later, you taught me to understand what it’s like to be a caregiver, to grieve, to love so much your heart breaks, and to simply let life go at it’s own pace. You’ve never stopped teaching me! ❤️ Teresa

I’ll see you later, Margie

I met Margie in Denver a few years ago when I was invited to her book club meeting to discuss my book, Kapoho: Memoir of a Modern Pompeii. At that meeting, I signed my book Dangerous Woman: Poetry for the Ageless,  to Margie: a fearless and dangerous woman, I inscribed. Like many books I’ve signed, that autograph often  becomes the only connection of that moment and thereafter.

Today, I received a call from Jill, who had hosted that Denver meeting. Margie is dying and on Sunday, she will take her final cocktail with her family nearby. Last week Margie hosted a Celebration of her Life party for friends and family.  Jill made her final visit today and Margie told her how she wished she could speak to me once more; that she had always loved being called fearless and dangerous. She, I was told, lived without any organized religion.

I called her, not knowing what to say but leave it to humor, it saw us through.I told her I had called to help celebrate the life of a fearless and dangerous woman and she laughed in her very strong voice.  I asked her a favor, that wherever she is going, will she save a place for me, not any old place, but a place with a recliner with a mink stole. She laughed and said this she can do. We ended our call with our love and she said, “I’ll see you later.” I ended our call with “I’ll see you later.”

I hope I can do it with humor when it’s my time.

Afterthought: Now why didn’t I read her a poem?

Wordsworth’s three new fans

Thank you, Cameron, Lex and Cooper for your review of my Wordsworth books.

Folks, the three brothers Cameron and Lex are 13 and Cooper is 21 months. They each received a letter of thanks from Wordsworth and me, mailed in three separate envelopes.

I plan to read their letters to the lecture I’m giving this month on Wordsworth and children’s literature in my effort to show the difference between children’s books and literature. What makes it literature? These boys know.

On Children’s Literature

Hi Folks,

Do let me know if you plan to join us…fhk@francesk.org

New site for tomorrow’s session

HOw I miss Hawaii. This would never happen there:

Just got noticed by the Alz Assoc that my session for tomorrow will be at  a different site due to error in booking. The new site is next to the original library site.  Grrrr.

*So the presentation will take place at: *
*Carmichael Presbyterian Church*
*5645 Marconi Ave, Carmichael, CA 95608 *
*There is ample parking in back of the church, please use the driveway to
go behind the church and park.*

Eh Auntie: The Aloha Spirit

Eh Auntie

If ever you’ve been called old or elderly by the young, there is something precious awaiting you in Hawaii. If you’re lucky, a young local man or woman will address you as “Eh, Auntie.” To be called “Eh, Auntie” takes a lifetime of processing to truly understand its underlying gift.

Remember the horror of being offered senior discounts when you were still in your 40’s or 50’s? I remember feeling such indignities when teenagers called me “Ma’am” in Michigan when I was still in my 30’s, not realizing it was an address of respect.  Kindergarteners used to call me “Mommy” by mistake  when I first started out as a teacher. That was fine until “Mommy” gradually turned into “Grandma.” Students are that special breed of people who forever keep you young. A sixth grader told me, “Please don’t wear that, you look like my grandma,’ pointing to the pair of eye glasses hanging around my neck. I quickly put my glasses on my head without the strap. When you’re young by numbers, you tend to fall and be captured  into the Culture of Youth.

Recently in Hawaii,  I was returning my shopping cart to the market when a young local man called, “Eh, Auntie, I’ll take that for you.” And he returned the cart for me. Once at Honolulu airport, a local man stopped me from getting a luggage cart with, “Eh Auntie, save your money. Here, use my cart.” He helped to load my luggage on to my cart. Once again, at the busy Honolulu airport, I stood in the way of someone wheeling a customer for early boarding. She whispered to me from the back, “Auntie, excuse me, can you let us pass? Mahalo, Auntie.” “Auntie” turned her request into such a gentle one. A friend in Hilo shared the following: She took a car load of trash to the local rubbish dump. A local man approached her with, “Eh Aunty, leave ‘um, I’ll take care of that for you,” and he unloaded her trunk of all the trash. When she thanked him, he nonchalantly explained, ‘No worry, Auntie. We take care of our elders.”

For the first time, “Eh Auntie” came to mean what it has always meant in Hawaii, the true Aloha spirit, genuine, untouched, unsophisticated, and real.  Each time someone approaches me with “Eh , Auntie,”  I know I am being cared for, recognized as someone who may need someone’s hand, am part of humanity and more than anything else, I have returned home to the islands.