Warrior at daybreak


Facing down my day
daring me to conquer it
baby, I am armed
with more
than my pride
what I’ve got
ripe sweet fresh
peach from the tree

Each minute–every day
you keep talking
all your trash–you like to
spread around the place
baby you know it
I know more than
I let on

Falling from the tree
and your good graces
as if I would let that stop me
as though your petty cruelty, and
manipulative currency
mean a thing

Inside this space
I give to no one
each day a new start
the pieces of the puzzle
coming together
rising with the sun


Everything I owe

I swerve to avert unpleasantness
all the rain I expect will come down on my head
does not fall every day–not always–
for sometimes the day enters with a
merciful step

When I am too much about myself
I enter the room–the house–the day
all that was shiny and bright
seems to have fled me–stomping my foot
I demand like a child–and like a child

I am ashamed when I demolish
my little houses in a row, and
you–watch in horror as I smash
what I had built

Your eyes see mine
and I remember a day when we were as one–
connected by a common thought

that we–together
would build this house

Circling the block

There is a strange tick inside
more than a heartbeat
a staccato beat
that proves I am alive
(seeking more than I can afford)

Wanting someone to hold me
seems normal to me, what
I thought was normal back then
bananas, fruit flies circling–
car outside, tires flat

But you, you circle the block
waiting for me
wondering when will she be
someone that can cross the street
without holding another hand

Don’t tell me it is not worth it
when every living person is trying
to get at that brass ring
mine for awhile (until
I found it was made of cake)

It fell apart during our first rain
My reign
make it durable for me
able to weather
whatever comes

Hold my hand
break my heart
drive me around the block
take me where you’re going
I’ll be quiet–I’ll be good

(I won’t ask for much)

only everything

(I won’t tug at you much)

only every day

Monday Random: compromise

  • I make my husband happy when I don’t talk during the news even if something makes me want to monologue
  • He makes me happy when he watches one of my old movies and doesn’t complain about the sound or the lame sets
  • I go to every Star Trek movie, sometimes on opening night
  • At some point he stopped saying things about my family that were sore spots
  • He went to the church I picked
  • I make pizza ten times more often than I’d ever eat it, and I learned how to make pizza crust like a New Yorker
  • I learned how to make cheesecake like a New Yorker though I could go the rest of my life without eating it
  • He’d rather the mayo not touch the cheese on a sandwich, and I respect that
  • He reads all my manuscripts and gives honest feedback
  • I’ve been going through menopause for ten years. Not done yet.
  • I know, TMI. But I’ll never lie to you.

Continue reading “Monday Random: compromise”

tulips for tissues

little girl lost at home
wanted nothing more
than a white fence around a
garden, a cottage filled
with children
and a man whose eyes
brought the sun indoors

fairy tale princess, don’t be sad
your cottage is made of plaster
but it keeps you warm at night
and when you dream, the sunshine
does not forget you, coming
to you in visions, warming your
body like you need

do you suppose the garden to be
filled with fanciful creatures–
fairies who wield swords
battling dragons that threaten
to turn off the sunshine–
don’t cry–you know you
can beat them, if only you
look your monsters in the eyes

hydrangeas and daffodils remind you
that this is what you wanted
the fence can be painted over
and the tears dried–
tulip petals for tissues
beware–you don’t grab
at the poison ivy
with your small hands

beware of warm breath, the
dragons that look like princes–
you are safer in your make-believe
gazebo, this splendid tea laid out
on toadstools
and smiles–
all your smiles that bring the sunshine
with no help at all

you have it in you
to shine, and
cottage, garden, fairies and slain dragons
are all yours