Barbara Lydecker Crane
began writing poetry in 2005. Her poems are published or forthcoming in Measure, America
, The Raintown Review
, Light Quarterly
, and Home
, an anthology from the Eden Waters Press.
A visual artist for 38 years, her award-winning landscape quilts are included in many private, public and corporate collections, including the New England Quilt Museum and Massachusetts General Hospital.
She lives with her husband in Lexington, Massachusetts.
—Back to Bumbershoot Contents—
The Spa Raccoon
What might it mean, this hour of Aura Cleanse?
I cannot comprehend these homo sapiens.
If people really had an innate glowing light,
then they could see like me, this moonless night,
as I walk my path to Aromatherapy.
That dumpster—what a potpourri!
People purify in Swedna, some exotic steam;
I frequent basement dryer vents in my regime.
Hot Stone Therapy is all the upstairs rage,
but we’ve a warm fieldstone in our den sub-stage.
From one or two masseuses, Thai Massage?
These humans hire any strange menage.
My mate’s and my paws are adroit at every task.
And as for facials—well, you see I have my mask.
I’m licked clean with just my tongue’s good taste,
while they exfoliate in Udvartina, pricey herbal paste.
Conscious Core Transformation! That one takes
the cake. All humans really need to do is make
good animals of themselves. Still, I might partake
of Nutrition Consult. Garbage awfully rich of late.