Posts for June 11, 2017


Olive Shorts, Sky Blue Shirt, and Her Long, Black Hair

I watch her walk inside, tall and slender
as she was when we first met. How did
I look then, before the birth of my last child?  

We met again at random places, the bank, library, store.
After much trouble, we were ready
to be born again, given love and freedom twice.  

We were pregnant with ourselves. I stroked her back
all night, and we both gained fifty pounds.
Well, maybe forty, her, and sixty, me. We laughed until we peed.  

This is not the way into another’s heart: “Do you always keep
so much trash by the door?” I cleaned underneath the fridge
and to the carpet, opened a closet impacted to dismay.  

Indulgence was the balm for ruined hopes, sacrifices made
sustaining the charade. We have no time for pretense, now.
On a good day, I do half of what I thought was scarce enough.  

We have closets without doors. Anyone can judge us,
but not as harshly as we do. Writing is distilled truth
forced out of turmoil into potency. I adore my second life. I do!  

My former husband fixed our toilet. His wife, our sweetest friend,
bought flea collars for our pets. We can’t afford to play,
but still, we do. We make the world, surviving life.


#8026BF ( 128, 38, 191)

this is how I remember it
the royal purple carpet
flooding the sanctuary 
hell, it even covered the pews
where our asses sat
fit for kings

so rich in symbolism, so

no wonder the boy who come to realize
he innately knew he preferred
Luke’s beati pauperes to
Matthew’s added spiritu
struggled to find himself
in a den of hypocrites


In Cana

Dearly Beloved
     path by the water
ordinance of God
     Great Smoky Mountains
plenty and in want
     lavender bouquet
honor and cherish
     wild ferns and maples
this ring I give you
     friends and family
blessed by our Saviour
     God is in all things


The Scientific Method

Two boys engage in violent scientific debate
on the front lawn of Beck Middle School
to determine whether frost or snow
covered the frozen Bermuda grass.

The side for snow won
when he busted the other kid’s lip
and left him sprawled on his ass and crying.

I mean, it was clearly frost,
but none of us watching would argue
against such convincing research methods.


To a Bird, Dead, Left for Me by My Cat

We are,
All of us,

May we all
Be so lucky
as you to be deemed
In parting.


Found or Kodak moments

You think
You’ve found them all
Hotel rooms
Morning afters
That old house in Georgetown
Als Bar
All the pictures
That held the plans
You waited on to develop
Now sit on the screen 
Until the hard drive is


Yes To This Day

Warm everywhere
This long, splendid day, Sunday,
June day, long fine day.


Hit It

You said good morning

but meant something else

it was a different sort of morning

than before.

Tomorrow is the second day

I have never once

been so ready for anything

hit it



In the Garden of the Gods…

Sandstone towers twist toward the heavens,
caressing cirrus clouds.
Yet perilous cliffs
wait for mortals to slip,
and with gravity as their accomplice,
plunge them back to earth.  

He shouts,
“Mom, can I climb this one?”
I cringe.
Images of him falling fester and fill my mind.  

But he looks at me –
the confidence of Hercules on his face –
and I nod,
releasing my demi-god to conquer his Olympus.


Baby’s Blessing

May the road rise up to meet you–
better yet,
may you rise up to meet it.
May cool winds
and hot leather seats cradle you.
May your music drift loudly down the road,
a counterpoint to the hum
of the engine,
of the tires,
and may that engine always roar
when your anger needs it
and purr when your soul needs calming.
May your companions sing,
or be silent,
but always be friends;
may they always be family.
May the sun shine through to you
and rain beat a tattoo on the roof,
and may the pedal and your hands
always be steady.
May the road turn for you to dance,
and straighten so you can fly,
and may it always lead you safely
to where you want to be.