Posts for June 28, 2021


Buried Treasure

I kept everything
That’s what I told you
and I meant it

Our green couch didn’t make the move
My red lipstick expired
And the horses that crunched from our hands
have moved on to greener pastures

But I kept it
I kept everything from your front teeth scraping mine until now
And wanted you to know


The Journey to Goodbye

Goodbyes have never been easy for me
I don’t want relationships that bring joy to come to an end
I always want to have the opportunity for a future meeting     
A see you later – not a goodbye
It is fun to quote Shakespeare by asking,    
“When shall we three meet again?  In thunder, lightning, or in rain?”
and expect the response,   
“When the hurly-burly’s done, when the battle is lost and won”     
“That will be ere the set of sun.         
Where the place? Upon the heath, there to meet with, Macbeeeeth!”  

I don’t like it when there is no next time or see you later
I have walked the journey to the end of life with those I love
I kept saying to myself that it’s going to be okay
We can do this.
And we did  

I now find myself as a companion
to those just beginning their journeys to a final goodbye
I encourage them to take each day as it comes
I advise them to choose  to do one thing that will bring joy to their day
And to do their best to do that thing – as simple as it may be –
Savor a cup of coffee, listen to music played on the piano – hold hands
Speak words of love and laugh at goofy things people say and do
It sounds so easy,  but it’s not that easy to do  

The journey to goodbye is filled with anticipatory grief
It’s like watching a movie while knowing how it ends
Knowing there is a final goodbye ahead
I begin to cry in the middle of the movie
Even through the happy parts  – because
Life is precious, every moment becomes precious
Moments are no longer ordinary    
They are holy 
Everything is going to be okay
When the time comes to say goodbye
We are not walking in a dark, lonesome valley
We have companions who care
We are not alone 
It’s going to be okay –  
We can do this
And we will


Extra Credit? Would You Prefer an A? (A Tanka Found at a Sexual Harassment In-Service, OMG!)

He made them feel small

and then he’d hug them better.

“Consent’s not enough,”

the lawyer said, “Here’s the rule—

Make sure the student asks you.”



Out in the evening
I imagined you
sitting, a shadow 
beside me
I looked at your ripped jeans,
leather flipflops, 
the reflex of sitting comfort,
you stood and walked 
toward the fence line
and climbed it
I waved, 
excepting the extra parts
I didn’t have 
to love you well


Supporting Actor

According to 
I’m am just
the Joker,
sitting in his jail
for the movie
to end.

Which is
We’ll talk again
I pick up my


I Will Not Be Ruled

… by the whims
of a cat or cats,
stealing ham slices
scratching furniture
yowling, hissing
failing to cover poop
demanding dinner at five
batting at my hand
     as I pen this poem
pawing at my head
     when I want to stay abed.
Even though they pose,
gorgeous in calico
and gray-striped suits,
superior, enigmatic, purring
I will not be ruled. 


moonlight memory

these hills roll into higher peaks
as daylight falls into the eclipse
the winter chill could last for weeks
but stars shine brightly over your lips
imagination lingers by ways of breeze
the candle-wax seems to drip from the wick
time slows and my breath seems to ease
yours does too, and then it all clicks


but now I do

I don’t usually
wear crop tops
orange skin peaking between fabrics
but now I do.
migraine med’s got me feeling
some type of way
and I’m hot and I’m cold
and this one inch piece of flesh
is the temperature regulator
I didn’t need before
but I do now.

I don’t usually
stay up late
my signature lies on a paper
on the fridge
from a clinic
that promised me pain free days
if I controlled what I could
but now I do.
perhaps friendship matters more
than a scrawl and a promise I never
intended to keep
to a man in a white coat
who didn’t keep his.



Writing out my songs,
Then listening to yours,
And suddenly my music doesn’t flow as well.

Writing out my poems,
Then reading over yours,
And suddenly my words don’t meld together like before.

Doing something that seems all my own,
Until you do it too.
I wish that we could bond over it
But instead I choose to break.

Because it always has to be 
either “mine”
or “yours,”
but never 



The magic
in your eyes

At first look
you connect
you are hooked

-Sue Neufarth Howard