When Flames Come

When I wrote this poem I had Windsor Castle and The Glasgow School of Art in mind. Both are elegant brick buildings which caught on fire. Now looking at the poem in light of George Floyd's death, it reads as a metaphor for Law Enforcement in the US.



When Flames Come


remember what the mason
knows - it's tricky to be delicate

and durable both, to craft
a structure for the ages,

produce a puzzle
of stone and grace,

to assume fire resistance
when building with brick
and downplay exposed finishes,

dismiss the odds of facing intact walls
around a gutted core, watching dreams
stream like smoke through an open door.

It will happen again, it has happened before.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Not a Breath of Air

Usually, hot days are not a problem at the cabin in the north woods, especially with a breeze. But when there is no air movement at all and the temps are in the 90s, it becomes a tad uncomfortable.



Not a Breath of Air


A painting, a Winslow waterscape
outside my morning window.

A brown-porcelain barge
and biscuit figures idle on the far shore
of a lake brushed with lily pads.

Blanc-de-chine gods drift
between branches in fog-draped trees.

Too soon,
the bull-beating heat of the sun
dissolves the tableau, sweats the jug
and settles itself on my deck:

an unwanted caller dawdling
on Adirondack chairs. My tumbler
of ice water shimmers.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Following the Death of George Floyd - III

It's been almost two weeks since the Memorial Service for George Floyd in Minneapolis. And even though calm now prevails, the underlying tensions remain close to the surface, fueling the need for reform.



Following the Death of George Floyd
Day Ten of Unrest - Minneapolis


Today the Memorial for Mister Floyd.
Al Sharpton presiding and hammering home,
"Take your knee off our necks!"

Those present, those outside, and those tuned
      in electronically standing in silence
             8 minutes and 46 seconds.

Unbearably long for everyone - unending
                                                  for George.


Curfews lifted, some Guardsmen retreating,
Coronavirus creeping back into consciousness.
The city shattered, the citizens shaken
but nurturing a hope for change.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Following the Death of George Floyd - II

The killing of George Floyd remains front and center in Minneapolis. A few days ago I happened to drive by a building that had been torched and several more that had been boarded up. But this was in St. Paul, merely a sideshow to the main action.



Following the Death of George Floyd
Day Four of Unrest - Minneapolis


Pandora,

You have again opened your box
and unleashed a whirlwind of destruction.

Four nights and counting.
Feeding on itself and fanning across America.

Close the case! before what little hope we harbor
soars off with the others.



Following the Death of George Floyd
Day Eight of Unrest - Minneapolis


Minority neighborhoods suffering.
Wanton wastage of Mom and Pop shops
and big box stores, both.

An army of residents responding
with 20,000 bags of groceries
and more,
with baby formula and diapers,
with brooms and shovels
and the will to clean,
with solidarity
in the idea things must change.

The rubble of businesses in the background,
the smell of smoke lingering,
and the unspoken fear of this momentum
                                                       being lost.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor

Following the Death of George Floyd

This has been a horrific week in Minneapolis following the death of George Floyd. A series of poems about this time continues to foment within me. Here are two of them.



Following the Death of George Floyd
Day Three of Unrest - Minneapolis


Injustice butts heads
with bands of blue-clad policemen.

Rocks and bottles battle bullets
of rubber, tear gas. Opening skirmishes.

Angry red shopping carts fly airborne
towards the doors of the superstore
that birthed them.

Palpable outrage simmers and builds,
burns buildings and sears the souls
of anguished citizens.

In the distance I see the flames climbing.



Following the Death of George Floyd
Day Five of Unrest - Minneapolis


A thousand rioters shoving, pressing to cross a bridge.
A thousand cops pushing back.

Official vehicles with flashing lights
- blue then red then blue then red then blue then red -
a psychedelic cork plugging the way

as the waters of the northern Mississippi
tumble a thousand feet below
in the bootblack of night.

Thousands of National Guardsmen, State Troopers
and Police like border collies with sharp teeth
- nipping, nipping, biting, nipping, biting, biting -
work on dispersing crowds defying curfew, bent
on mayhem.

Across the country a thousand other hotspots roil
with turmoil, too.



 Marilyn Aschoff Mellor