—for Margaret (Peggy) Cole
Peggy is solving a puzzle at the piano when we meet
Which note goes where? She offers me the comfy chair
We get right to work: Talking and talking
She says we should write a play together. She has the wigs.
Peggy’s daughter calls—I know her. She has a big old house, and dogs.
She is a good girl. This is the most important thing.
When Peggy was born her brother left home in protest.
He came back, or he would have missed all the fun:
Hide and seek, marbles, bike rides and two hard pretzels for a nickel
He would have missed dandelion crowns,
forged from resilient, unbridled weeds. And Tilly the cat,
who rose from the dead when the chloroform didn’t work.
Lucky thing, her brother came back, like Tilly the cat
Resilient, unbridled and ready to grow like a weed. Like his baby sister.
Peggy played violin, first chair
The other girl was better, she says, but too shy to play first chair
Some people are so shy, when they open their mouths, you listen
Peggy and her girlfriends didn’t go in for all that girl stuff
They couldn’t care less about dolls.
They did crazy dumb things but always had something to think about.
Peggy has done all the things worth doing.
Peggy solves people like puzzles, like a piano piece to riddle out
When we are younger we say: This Is What I Will Be
When we are older we say: This Is What I Was
Potential energy and spent moments. Peggy Is Kinetic
Now, in this moment, together: We Are Who We Are
and We Are All Good. This is the Most Important Thing.
©2020 by Kathleen Morrow