Sandy Steinman: Poems

a collection

Copyright 2001

DRIVING HOME FROM SAFEWAY

A hummingbird flies in
to roll along with the Tide:
(the giant size,)
Safeway's juicy
freestone peaches,
plump bing cherries,
honey dew.

Me and you, sweet hummer,
an unlikely duo: caged together
in a sea- green four-door
‘92 Corolla.

Do you choose to flee,
seek another’s summer
wildflower garden?
Rosy crown, rosy chest,
jade wings, iridescent

whirr and click,
thrum and tick,

hover as I sigh,
weary, wingless,
low on gas,
almost home.

APPRECIATION

Sarah stares, patient,
new collar flashing
under plum tree shade,
where fresh mounded earth
supposes a mole.
Fixed, cool eyes,
seek something, the lightest movement.

My gaze, restless,
moves from cupboard, jarred
dried green lentils, to table,
thawed ham hocks,
onions, carrots, cilantro:
my dinnerfare.

At once a yowl,
she squeezes, pleased
through the open window,
presenting a choice gift:
wiggly pea green salamander,
missing its tail.

You scorned my earnest gifts:
The red sweater, too garish.
Topaz earrings, too small.
Plaid scarf, the wrong colors.
The cloche made you look old.
(Had I no sense of style?)

You offer a sweet salamander?
Oh.Thank you, Sarah.

LATE AUGUST

Rythmical as breathing,
slowly she rises, stretches,
inches open the narrow deck's
double doors, bare feet
wide apart, yodels to flowers,

Lobelia o-lady- o
Fuschia o lady--
Tropicana Roses-o.

Steps outside to yards
of trailing nasturtium,
yesterday's stems now dry,
weightless as wren feathers.

Plucks ten
still-vibrant blooms
for dinner's salad.

Whips out cream-tone
drawing paper, gathers
fine chalk pastels, sits
cross-legged and focused
on the warming deck:

Nasturtium.
In Memory.

THE CRITIC

Propless, on an immaculate stage
I perform spotlight-blinded,
my hand clutches a sizzling mike,

Seek her usual perch
center box, alone,
petulant stare
red velvet cloche
her heavy jade earrings wag
above padded shoulders.

Pretending she's winked at me,
I toss back a gay wave. Impatient,
she flips program pages.

Conductor's sharp tap,
audience hush,
she whispers to no one
my daughter --

I belt out a dreamy
Richard Rogers show tune,
four quarter time,
beam the blazing
professional smile
she taught me.

Thunderous applause.