To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 4

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 4

Janelle Spiers

In case you are a new reader or you have forgotten what has transpired, I have the links to previous installments for you...

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 1

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 2

To Love or Be Loved ~ Part 3


Evelyn O’Hara

Kindness

An angel came to me today as I blew home 
with the wind.  A car stopped and a smooth hand 
beckoned me towards the shiny black.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

The dust made me cough as dark hair shook, 

green eyes flashed and red lips spoke.  

A shiny coin in my hand; from an angel.

Marjorie J. Riley

The Library

I don’t know how many poor folks live near

the library.  I only wanted a book, not dirty

sickly peasants.  I helped the crippled boy,

the apple seller, and the sick woman.  Her

gray eyes                                 haunt me, like

the cough                                 that racked her

skinny body.                           Her dirty hair

needed washing, but she looked so different

than all the other poor folks.  Her face was full

of thankfulness and hope.  What does she give 

thanks for?  How does she have hope?

Evelyn O’Hara

Fear

What will happen to my darling John

when I cannot care for him?  Will there

be a place where he can go, when I am gone?

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

It will not be long.  I must find a place.

Where can a beautiful angel go in this dark

world?  Will anyone else love him like I do?

Desperation

Bang! Bang! Bang!  Loud knocking on the door 
wakes me.  An early morning, still dark outside.  
John wiggles beside me as I get up.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

A large pink paper on my door.  “Wha’ is it?”

John asks as I read the words, ‘Eviction.’ 

I look into John’s blue eyes.  We have two days.

Marjorie J. Riley

Add Insult to Injury

I have been trying to ignore it, but I can’t 

any longer.  Will won’t ever love me, he’s in love

with Helen Briant.  It is clearly obvious.  He

dotes on her                            and listens to

her incessant                           chattering. I

can’t stand                              either of them.

And to make matters worse, he won’t come to

my parties without her.  I might never invite

him again, but if I didn’t, how would I ever

see him...

Father Wouldn’t Approve

Dorothea Jennings said that I was a flapper. I

told her that I wasn’t, because Father wouldn’t approve.  

Of course, I do wear makeup and play 

cards,                           but I don’t paint my

knees.                          I do wear shorter skirts

but,                              not my hair. I do drive a

car, but I don’t smoke…much.  There are just

things that I could never do, because Father

wouldn’t approve. I want him to be proud or me.

Evelyn O’Hara

Glimpse

I caught sight of my angel today.

Her dark car drove down my street.

I think she goes to the library once a week.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

It is getting worse, this cough.

Living in the dirty alley does not help.

John never complains, but I know he is cold.

Pursuit

I followed the angel to her house.

The black tire wings carried her home

and now I have a place mapped in my mind.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

I am not sure how long this can go on.

But now I have followed her and I know where to take 

my John when God’s angels call me home.

Marjorie J. Riley

Mother Wouldn’t Approve

A dirty child asked me for money today.  I put a

small, round coin into his soft, rough hand.  It hurt

to see the tears in his eyes. I felt them in mine. 

Why can’t                                           I just give

away money                                       and not care who it 

goes                                                    to?  Charity

is ridiculous.                                        It demands

much more                                          than merely

giving away money.  It wants your heart, too. I

blink back tears as Jerry drives on. Mother

wouldn’t approve. But I never cared.

Evelyn O’Hara

Time

“Get up, Johnny. It’s time.”

“Time for what, Mamma?” He asks.

“It’s time to be warm and happy.”

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

I hack up blood as I carry my son

through the dark streets of Boston.

As I carry my son to precious freedom.

Marjorie J. Riley

All Is Calm

I read the black words on the white page.  My

father and I read, never my mother and I.  She

wanted to sew.                        I wanted to dance.

She wanted to                         have tea.  I wanted

to read.  Any                           thing contrary to

what Mother                           wanted. I was

myself.  I set down my book and move to the

window.  It is dark and quiet.  Everything is still.

  

Evelyn O’Hara

Pain

I move quickly through the shadowed streets.

There! The lighted windows, the warm house.

That is where my Johnny will learn and grow.

            Cough,

            Cough,

            Cough,

I cough as I set John on the steps. I cough as I tell 

him, stay, don’t move. I cough as I hug him.

I ring the bell and run away from my crying boy.

Marjorie J. Riley

An Ocean of Blue

The bell rings and I hear Ann go to the door.

“Good Lord, Miss Riley, come quick!”  I hear

her scream. I hear another sound.  A child’s cry.

At the door,                            I find a child. Big

blue eyes                                  filled with big fat

tears. He                                  screams for his

“mamma,”                               but there is no one in

the dark outside. I stoop and look at the little boy. 

He is tiny, skinny, but at least three-years-old. A

tiny, obedient urchin, abandoned to drown in an
ocean of blue. I take him in my arms, as he cries.