In Which I Fall Again And Again

Ere dawn and crossing a dark parking lot,

On Sunday morn, most gingerly I stepped,

On packed down snow and ice I saw -- I've got

A good idea of where that is; have kept

From slipping all this winter, save last week

On Friday when I landed on my bum

In that snowbank before my car. A squeak

Of shoe on ice and I was down, but, numb

I rued it and moved on. But then came this

New incident: a damp sidewalk before

The entrance fooled me and ere I could hiss

Or scream, right down I went, right by the door.

My shoulder took the weight, then took a twist

As, trying to get up, up's what I missed.

I Do Not Beat My Mom, But I Don't Turn Down Her Offers Of Assistance Either

Like Coraline, I found a secret drawer
While starting to pack up my kitchen gear.
I have a turkey lacing kit? What's more,
A blender part and more spoons did appear!
Oh, moving house is ever so much fun,
Especially when one works by oneself.
In candour I've become nearly undone,
Since ne'er did I find magic packing elf.
So to my rescue came my own dear Mom
To help me keep on track and pack more smart.
Alas, before one hour had passed her palm
And face and knee and pride, but not her heart
Were torn and bleeding. Yes, she took a spill
On ice and asphalt. Yet she helps me still!