How to become the person you want to be

Dominic

When he was 12 and changed

schools, my son decided 

to change his image, too,

from class clown to

something more strapping.

Surprized he knew how

at such a tender age,

to make such a bold transition

I asked for his formula.

Here's what he said:

Mom, it's easy.

First decide who you want to be.

Then start acting like that person.

People will treat you like that person.

Then you will be that person.


Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

Who's The Best?

Dominic now 20

When my son was 8 I asked:

Who's the best soccer player in

your school?

His answer: Steven Miller!

Who's the best baseball player?

Steven Miller!

Well, who's the best joke teller?

Steven Miller!

And the best singer?

Steven Miller!

Finally, I sighed.

Honey, surely you're the best

at something.

I am!

I'm Steven Miller's best friend!


Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

Time Flies

He tied big birds and bucks 

to the roof of our station wagon.

Left catfish gasping in the kitchen sink

And fired up the grill.

Jammed our garage with firearms, golf clubs

fishing poles, bowling balls.

Grew sunflowers taller than the house.

Bred a hunting dog in the back.

Built a brewery in the basement.

Soldiered in Europe and Korea

Kept his medals polished in a drawer

And nine to fived every day.

Don't waste time, daddy warned

as I swung in my swing, wasting time.

It's all gonna be over before you know it.

Before you know it doesn't begin to describe

The way time took flight 

like a falcon’s hunting dive,

As I swung in that swing, smiling

Daddy’s just trying to scare me.  

Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

The Morning After Sue Died

Judging from their calm repose

these roses on my deck 

have yet to learn the crushing news 

that Sue is gone.

And to my deepening dismay,
the sun shines just as bright today 

as yesterday,
not knowing, I suppose,
that Sue, our beloved Sue,
passed on last night.

And woe, these palm trees sway 

as gently as they did before,
as if nothing’s changed at all
though Sue, lovely Sue,
took her last breath that day. 

But to her friends--sisters--
(Sue made us all feel kindred), 

her sudden most hated death last night 

split our world in two: 

those kinder Yesterdays
when there was Sue 

and these harsh Todays
when there is not.


Sue died September 20, 2011


Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

For a Young Woman Who Died of Addiction

View of Mount Diablo, San Leandro, CA

When your mother spoke of you, she said Lilly

A name that brings to mind timeless light and beauty

And don’t we often speak of love through flowers?

Most especially one so enduring?

She set aside the sunniest spot for you

Bathed and pruned your pedals

Tried to shade your roots from burn

So you’d be ready to flower 

In time for Easter

Who knew how hard it is for lilies to adjust

To a garden environment

Or how stubborn they could be

Not docile like the rose or daffodil

No, lily of the pond, of the valley

You wild, wild flower of Heaven,

Whose nature requires constant priming

Under the most optimum conditions,

Must be protected at all times

Therefore only God can grow a perfect lily

Only He tenders optimum conditions

Only He can force this bud to bloom

In time for Easter

And so one thinks God himself

Chose the lily

Over all others in creation

To serve as His flower of resurrection

Let’s think of Lilly now, abloom

In the everlasting garden

Among countless departed blossoms of every hue

All today in chorus, they are singing:

Oh Lilly, Tis heavenly to be here with you!

Tis Easter every day now with you!


 Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

The Ant and I

Above Half Moon Bay

On this rotting trail

I let an ant transverse.

And note she crosses 

Without a care

of the fast death 

she’s just been spared

beneath my boot.

I revel in my generosity

and feelings of supremacy

tho I know like me

this ant’s returning home

only if her luck holds out.

We are equals, this ant and I

in our respective fates.

Under some plain boot

We both will fall.

And neither knows the dates.

Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.

What A Heavy Suitcase, Childhood

What a heavy suitcase 

childhood is.

Packed for us by others 

Far too casually

For such a chancy expedition.

Crammed between the fantasies,

So many cumbersome conceits,

Obsessions, qualms that

Weigh down every choice,

Every wish, every day.

When can we unpack those

Early selves, fold

Them neatly in a drawer

And walk away? 




 Copyright (c) 2012 Ellen McCarthy. All rights reserved.