“Music happens between the notes.”
YoYo Ma
In an OnBeing podcast, Krista Tippett recalled an interview with YoYo Ma to illustrate transitions. For Ma,
“…music happens between the notes.” Perhaps I stretch the metaphor, but I would venture that hiking happens between the steps, that travel happens between the cities – or in my case these past three weeks, between rivers and Great Lakes.
For me, the slowdown happens between vacation and the coming home. I find myself in search of steady ground, time to re-orient myself to home and routine, time to reflect.
We were tourists in Chicago. We hopscotched across Ohio. We biked Michigan’s Upper Peninsula.
Chicago was all about sharing a close friend’s love affair with her hometown.
Ohio began as a way to kill four days (because “what else are we going to do”) and became a chance to relive the songs that raised us.
Michigan was sheer exhilaration – riding a bike 300 miles along the shores of three Great Lakes.
Meanwhile, back at home our four-month-old puppy was learning to swim.
Aging parents were chewing over my parting admonitions to stop driving.
And our first-born’s first-born is on the way.
So, transitions loom large in my life. Lots to reflect on. Some of that reflecting has taken the form of postcard poems to friends and poetry partners.
Some of it is here. Some is still to come.
A Chicago Afternoon
glitter and pop of a city street
peppered with pedestrian legs escaping
from summer shorts,
soaking up sun as they stride sidewalks,
pause, and listen to the rhythm of the El
that hums heavily overhead
it feels good to walk in a city
amid chatter and echo and din
blend in at an outdoor cafe
watch the outline of skyscrapers
twinkle the horizon of a night sky
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Cuyahoga National Park
bevvy of skinny trunks guides us
casting a soft green hue
across a floor of fallen leaves
the canopy titters with raindrops
like giggling girls sharing a huddled secret
everything wet
slippery stone steps
laid long ago
by unemployed employed
FDR’s genius
to keep idle minds out of trouble
a canal, locks
forged a town
fed a family
left a legacy
lost in a canopy
whispers its history
to those who come to visit
July 6, 2022
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
July 4, Highland Park
on this day
that marks an upstart country’s
quest for independence,
one undone young man
used a gun
to murder innocents
marking this day –
once for parades
to come together
to celebrate
my heart sinks
we walk city streets
depleted
just recovered
glass fronts
newly reinstalled
trying, trying so hard
for normal
america the beautiful
america the cruel
america the sad
america dependent on guns
rage and despair
repair indoors
shelter in place
wait till it’s safe
to come out
©draft, Patricia J. Franz
Mary Lee at A(nother) Year of Reading
has this week’s RoundUp. Click to enjoy her “Clunker Exchange” and all the rest of Poetry Friday contributions!
Patricia Franz is a kidlit writer and published poet. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Patricia, what a heartbreaking poem you wrote about July 4, Highland Park. “America the beautiful, America the cruel, America the sad, America dependent on guns” says volumes.
I love the image of the tree canopy in the rain “like giggling girls sharing a huddled secret” Lovely!
My first born just had her first born, who is one month old. That is an amazing experience, to be sure. All the best for the new young family.
Sigh… I’m grateful for the reflection time that has allowed me to put all of these memories into perspective. July 4 will remain a sad one.
I love that you’ve used poetry to capture wordy snapshots of your summer travels! The sensory images are spot-on!
Thank you, Mary Lee. The photos feel so incomplete without a poem!
This post is an inspiration! What poignant poems. The escaping of legs from shorts is fun, the “unemployed employed” –such a great nod to the CCC and the horror of July 4th shootings. Your summer poems are their own chap book. Now, maybe you need a special altered book journal to keep them in? Or, you can make your own. I’ve been paper/book crafting like crazy this summer and having lots of fun doing it.
Thanks, Linda. I will need to follow up with you about what paper book crafting looks like in real-life! Not sure I have a craft-bone in my body, but I love the idea of putting my poems somewhere besides THE CLOUD – lol
Hi Patricia! I enjoyed your transition and reflection reminder/thoughts. I’m taking a page from your notes here and taking some time this weekend to do my own reflections. I also really enjoyed your Chicago poem. My wife (girlfriend at the time) and I went many years ago and loved it.
Thank you, Tim. Love love loved Chicago! Waited far too long to visit as a tourist! Enjoy your reflection time!
What a couple of weeks you’ve had! I can’t even imagine doing a bike ride that long. Kudos to you! I love your poems. I think the Chicago one with all the alliteration is my favorite. Thank you for making me a recipient of one of your post card poems. It is lovely. We are off on a family beach vacation tomorrow and I hope to relax and gather thoughts – let the music happen. Thank you for the inspiration.
Enjoy your beach time, Rose!
Patricia, your summer travels are varied and full of interesting postcard poems. Your thoughts pop with sadness (“my heart sinks/we walk city streets/depleted”) and joy (“it feels good to walk in a city
amid chatter and echo and din”). I do like the poem that recalls history (“unemployed employed/FDR’s genius/to keep idle minds out of trouble”). Congratulations on your firstborn’s news. It is exciting to welcome to the family a soon-to-be new life.
Thank you, Carol. Travel is great poetic inspiration.
You have been doing so much awesome traveling! I love that you are documenting those travels with your poetry!
Thanks, Marcie. Poetry is everywhere, right?
Patricia, I love these two poems and the background you provide. I am a great lakes girl having lived alongside two Great Lakes (Ontario and Erie) and in a state (WI) that borders a third. We spent a week driving back to NY (WNY – Brockport – that sits on the Erie Canal) to visit my aging parents. Driving is a concern for us too, regarding them. We are living in transition as well as we just moved to our lake house and our eldest son will be moving too, as he just finished grad school for his Ph.D. He hasn’t lived with us for nine years but it is still a milestone and a transition. Life is full of them and you are sharing yours beautifully! Thanks!
I loved seeing the Great Lakes, Carol. I’ve heard so much about midwestern summers “by the lake.” And btw, Milwaukee completely surprised me by being a charming stop!
Patricia, I was enjoying this post enormously; the language, the wordplay, the memories. Such a wonderful way of diarising travels and sharing postcards. It was a delight to read!👏 And then, July 4, Highland Park. Lack of punctuation really highlighted the wretchedness of this raw and awful truth. Two things really struck me; the upstart country’s quest for independence… dependent on guns. It’s like that double-edged sword, where the greatest strength is also the biggest weekness.💔
Sigh, yes; it’s discouraging at times to realize how little is being done to dialog and consider what might be possible.