Threnody

(2016)
For Mom

I remember the day you told me
it was no good
the end was coming
and all the miracle hopes
and treatments were done

you were calm
you were ready
and I wasn’t
skidding my heels
dragged to the church a month later
baby in my belly
to see something that was not you
you were gone already-

then later
in the garden when
summer came again
I saw you alive in my son’s eyes
then again in a field
of clover and cornflowers

Do you fear the fire

(2015)

For Mom

Walking through the woods
you spoke of fire.
Of course I had noticed it
the lack of green
the scent of the foray
of pitiless flames
and the ash beneath our feet.

A dream, perhaps, upon
opening my eyes and
seeing your feet again
walking amongst the flames
a frantic dance for life
and after, the renovation
your attempt to cover it up
with a smile and a flower.

I was so happy to see something
colorful, blooming, my jaw
went slack – when the flower fell
from where you had taped it
to the scorched vine.
Yes, you fooled me
this little comfort of red petals
among the endless black.
“But black is your color.”

Black was the color of cool,
and calm in a time when I
could not settle myself. Tailor-made
for me, the crisp lines of black silk
and white cotton was enough
to blur the smudges of
soot on your cheek and forehead.

I was not there for you.

Here, let me.
And grabbing at the rose, I
moved too quickly, the thorn
piercing my finger
a reminder to wake up.
“You have blood on your
shirt”, you said, “wake up.”
There is work still to be done.

here and now

the birds brought comfort to my window
as if they knew what I had done
(I used to think I was nice)
my empathy unrivaled-peerless

I must have lit myself on fire
signaling to the others (that we)
were finished. Showing up
day after day, like vultures

I do not lie baby. And
I will miss you (painfully)
This circle of regret
broken up here-now

now while we can get out
now that we can run

Monday random-Twenty questions edition (37 actually)

On my former blog I had a feature I am resurrecting called ‘Monday Random’. It was basically a place to share random thoughts that were on my mind, anything from something I saw at the grocery store to politics. (rarely) Today I’m using these questions posed by another blog to break the ice for our inaugural edition of MR on this blog.

The questions below were posted by A Momma’s View . They are more like things I would have talked to my school friends about at slumber parties, or dared each other to tell. Momma calls them ‘Questions I think nobody ever asks’. I was also inspired by Deb’s answers on DebWasHere . I don’t know yet if I will answer all of them, but let’s give this a go, okay? I’ll be brave.

1.Boxer shorts or plum smugglers?
Neither. I assume as a lady this means my preference for men to wear. It depends on the man but I like boxer briefs.

2.What color of underwear are you currently wearing?
none

Continue reading

Lengthy courtship

The sun needs to come back out
for I am clinging to the
dross of the morning, and
I am breaking my own heart
every time I consider
who you are

An ominous hand it is that grabs mine
pushing the pen to the oblique
each lovely sentiment
drawn in hearts and flowers
pushed to its brink

Who will fault the artist’s model
for the work
seeping black paint
the carpet soiled by rotten thoughts
surely you see every
forced wish

Lengthy courtship with success
wasn’t I smart
didn’t I choose it
my red slip showing
each evening and you
whispering
yes
this is life

On the horse, endlessly spinning

loosen-tie

Over a lifetime of thrill rides
men find their way onto the carousel
sometimes tossed clear, of the
mechanizations and the infernal map

Some men alone-early morning respite
from wifely nags and to-do lists
others in booming baritone, sure-footed
and laced with bravado and beer

Men in worn sweat pants and hoods
in their early Saturday morning slouch
a man scratching, paces behind his woman
her soft voice heard-summoning

Men who walk head and shoulders first
those who build bridges and empires
men strangled by neckties
their shoes reflecting their dreams

Spinning, a few content to stay aboard
others ready to leap-holding fast to a friend
who will likely fall into the same dumpster
or whichever new world lies beyond