the weather report
said sunshine
sweet buds
and birdsong
but they
got it wrong
stormy and wavy
small craft warning
she’s gonna blow
at any moment
get some chocolate


my world got interesting
various fowl
wandering through
crying foul
when I thought
I had
hit a grand slam
hot damn
not again

you get no more of my heart
your stark, bleak revelations
of purity and righteousness
are dirty as menstrual rags
and your claims to freedom
no more than cymbals
clanging in an open
empty building
all this to say
you get no more of my heart

of random thoughts
carry me
past this place
into our first apartment
our noisy haven

with a date
into my notebook
and your eyes seeking mine
for the first time in a decade
I can sleep now

I feel unsteady

these days
not the metaphysical bit
of the mind off kilter

but the way you did not expect of me
toddling over ice and snow
in fear of falling

no longer dancing lightly up and down steps
my skirt brushing my ankles
daring me to try it