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Lois Greene Stone, writer and poet, has been syndicated worldwide. Poetry and personal essays have been included in hard & softcover book anthologies. Collections of her personal items/ photos/ memorabilia are in major museums including twelve different divisions of The Smithsonian. Alteration Words accept altered meaning with physical aging. Lonely, alone, as teens, tends to be dramatic emotions with desire for inclusion. Advanced years allow fright to find its way into the mind as one of us will precede the other by death. Fear of failure is a young feeling; fear of permanent loss incomprehensible. Lonely, alone, will then last as long as survivor’s life. Emergency Room My fingers circled smooth transparent plastic that cradled my nostrils. Could I sneeze? Would clips come out? Every twenty minutes my arm was grabbed by an inflatable cuff. Pump, pump, pump. Whish. Blood pressure. Noise. Hallway sounds of wheeled trays on tile floors. Clank. Not a trolley’s sound. I liked trolleys. “How are we feeling” asks an attendant. Can I say: scared Summer/fall 2013 SNReview ©2013 Lois Greene Stone reprinted Sept. 2016 Whispers top floorSlanted ceiling, missing wallboard from supporting beams, attics in film seem stuffed with memories and no longer used items. Are noises the mind’s tricks tempting us to climb a ladder into that space? Allowing concealed steps to drop, a sound in my attic wasn’t an itch urging me to peer into old boxes, but merely a raccoon. Eunoia Review May 2018 Concealed yet permanentI knit you a yellow wool hat with grosgrain streamers to tie under your infant neck. No ultrasounds existed so I selected a unisex color. Later you wore wooly hats hand made by my mother; she always made a pom-pom from the leftover yarn. Your silky hair received a nurse’s cap, proper and white, and you’d worn college mortar boards twice before. Bridal veiling made you blush. Your permanent Mommy hat was invisible. And as your firstborn entered university life, you wondered if it was still in place. Yes, I noticed. It’s still there, but just smaller on your head. ©2006 The Christian Science Monitor; reprinted Nov. 2017 Eunoia Review Inked OutMy mother always wrote in pencil... Letters, speeches, questionnaires, schoolwork. Was it her trademark or her way of expressing we vanish with the glide of an eraser? Published Winter 2008 Shemom With KevinTiny fingers flung duck food
into the water. “Why do stones sink and boats float?” He challenged my learning with such questions. Ducks paddled closer to the edge pushing beaks into morsels. We dropped some on the bank to welcome birds. He thanked me for the walk along the canal and feeding ducks. Decade later, fingers flung duck food into the water. The cracked corn felt smooth and we trickled some on the bank for the birds. Ducks paddled competing for nourishment. “Do you remember...?” I questioned. His strong fingers touched my hand. “Not too many seventeen year old boys would enjoy feeding ducks with Grandma,” and now I thanked him for taking me. Dec. 2009 Shemom reprinted spring 2013 The Lutheran Digest reprinted Nov. 2015 Whispers
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