Posts for June 29, 2023 (page 2)

I caught a dragonfly in my throat
chimes rang out in my head
high pitched sounds and vibrations
allowed me to see far distances
I felt the calling…..  

Isn’t that always the way
Suddenly you get taken over
without warning
asking you once again to sacrifice
whatever else you are doing
for Beauty, for Art,
for that Quest,
for that thing you want
that thing
that keeps you  

that thing that keeps you
from making dinner
buying milk for the fridge
running the laundry
because
those kinds of things
stop the momentum
into complete immersion
Those fragmentizing things
just don’t ring chimes,
but rather
break the charm
of muse mining
mountain climbing
grand standing on Kilimanjaro
landing on the moon  

So, again today,
I must choose
my path—-
Other than that,
it’s just
another
regular kind of day

Light up firefly
Show the world what you can do
Good morning/good night

You’ve held tightly my wandering thoughts, 
tucked them into your syllables. 
You’ve woven little nests with 
strings of letters, words, rhymes,
pauses, images
and metaphors. 
A nest from
which I
sing. 

Ham salad sandwiches taste
like tears. In the church basement,
soft chatter sputters, passes
away. After tea and cake,
awkward hugs, strained condolence
fail to comfort, though giver,
receiver, accept the lie. 

Fireflies flutter
in constantly shifting constellations,
one moment Orion loosing radiant 
arrows into ether, the next Ursa Major ambling through spangled
brush.  I marvel at these grounded celestials,
cursing my foolishness
for ever believing I could sequester
their starlight in my puny grasp.  The fireflies have forgiven
my arrogance; they still twinkle
in the eaves for me, gifting me light that renders darkness
resplendent.

I’ve got this bad habit
of starting sentences
before they’re thought out

conversations play
interspersed with tiny bouts
of stage fright- pauses
peppered by indecision,

taking the scenic route,
long winded rambling
from a clueless circumnavigator-
follow me to the ends of the earth,
where maybe we’ll find
our way back home
or maybe

After a hike to see the Middle Falls
At Letchworth State Park,
We pause at the playground.
My brother and I hop on the swings.

Far from being a child now,
my butt is a little too wide,
The black strap a little too snug.

But the rhythm is never forgotten,
Leaning forward and back.
The air swirls past,
The chains creak.

I jump, never bold enough
When I was young.
My brother sticks the landing.
I stumble a couple of steps.

My hands smell of metal.

I want you to love me the way
bananas love to rot on our counter.

It’s just that I always realize too late,
when that coveted shade of yellow’s
turned to spots turned to
there’s no way I’m eating that shit.

Toss ‘em and we’ll try again soon.
Toss ‘em and we’ll get it eventually.

bitchuary

i got a text
from your father
after you went away.

he wanted to know
what would go
in the obituary.

he spelled it
b-i-t-c-h 
uary.

your sister quipped
“that sounds like january
for bitches.”

long ago
your father branded me
bitch, many different kinds!

he was cold
but abbie and i
felt only warmth 

in the sweet respite
of our shared laughter
at his expense.

Night dance
                   Dance of the Wolves
                                                    Wolves dance in the shadow of the full moon