Three Poems by George Ella Lyon



Keeping It Straight
 
When your mother
Told my mother
that you’d come home
pregnant—this was
Thanksgiving your senior
 
Year—My mother 
Told Your mother 
We Have to get
Ahead Of this, we 
have to Get hold 
 
of this Story 
right now  So on 
New Year’s Day they 
sat you Down 

in the breakfast booth 
of your big old 
house & said Here’s 
what happened: You
two got married

at the Knox County
Court House in mid-
November. We’ll
Host a reception

Right here in two
Weeks. You won’t be
Showing & Walt 
will Go Along.

This is your
Story. Can you 
keep it straight?


*


Three Months Past My Mother’s Death 


traveling through Traverse City, I see a sign in a New Age bookstore: 

Massage, Reiki, Readings. Heavy with grief, I think a laying on of hands 

might do me good. Later, at the back of the shop, I go through a door 

into a tiny massage room. The therapist introduces herself, asks if

I want a reading too. I most certainly do not, I think. No, thank you, I say.


Her work is gentle & thorough & when she’s done, the knotted rope 

of my body has become a hammock. Once I’m dressed, she comes back in 

saying I know you don’t want a reading but my guides have a message

for you. There’s no charge. Will you listen? Okay, I tell her.

                                                Be happy

she says & I burst into tears. When I can get words out, I say I can’t 

be happy. My mother just died.

                             Your mother didn’t die, she tells

me. She made her transition. Will you say her name?  Gladys Hoskins

I say, giving each syllable the same pressure she gave Be Happy

She closes her eyes.


This woman knows nothing of me or my mother, who was 89 when she 

left us. Eighty-nine & working full-time till three weeks before she passed.

Who promised me she’d go to the doctor as I drove the three hours 

to her house. Who went to a meeting instead. 

                                                                                       Your mother, the healer 

begins, leaning again on the weight of each word, is very busy. She wants 

you to stop worrying about her.


*


Eve


works in foundations

bras, girdles,

merry widows.

She sells undies

32A to 48D

cotton, nylon

rigid, racy.

She sells what binds

and defines, lifts 

and separates,

squeezes in and pushes out.

What makes 

a woman-shape

out of the soft 

swing and flow

of female flesh

makes cones

out of curves

taut from loose

soft into hard.

She buys here too.


O Eve, stripped

in the wavery light

of the Ben Snyder

dressing room,

remember when you

walked, ecstatic 

and naked 

in the Garden,

at home in the roll

of you, round and

luscious, how firm

a foundation was that?



Harlan County native, George Ella Lyon writes in multiple genres for readers of all ages. She has published five poetry collections, a novel and memoir for adults, novels and poetry for young people, and many children’s picture books. Her most recent titles include Back To The Light: Poems (University Press of Kentucky, 2021) and Time to Fly (Atheneum, 2022). Her poem “Where I’m From” has gone around the world as a writing model. Married to musician and writer Steve Lyon, she served as Kentucky Poet Laureate (2015-2016) and was recently inducted into the Kentucky Writers Hall of Fame.