Posts for June 7, 2026 (page 12)

My mother discovered a baby bird

caught beneath the black tomato net

draped around her blueberry bush.

It stretched yet-weak wings

and found the strength

to somehow fly away,

its mother waiting

with a worm

on the outside.

                 ***   ***   ***

I wonder if the chipmunk caught

beneath the same net loosely draped

around my mother’s blueberry bush

died from starvation, dehydration,

or some other less-physical

need,

the soft, tiny shell of its body

cold beneath the heat

of summer sun.

                 ***   ***   ***

Does life, and death, and tragedy come

down to who we know

is waiting

on the other side

of a net

loosely draped

over my mother’s fledgling

blueberry bush?

                 ***   ***   ***

This morning, another

chipmunk

scampers in the yard.

is the space between us. Your place in bed

is a shrill pitch in the hollows of my ears

reminding me your pillow is cold. You cradle

my ribs in your fingers, make me ache without

cracking them, though you really could and I

sometimes wish for it. I hide the thought of you

in my tights, sheets of sandpaper shaped like

your jaw, raising the skin and counting down

sleeps where my dreams whisper tales to me.

Your every breath on Sunday is a

dollar I keep. I can afford everything

except you. You hoard all the colors

in your hotel room. Packed into your

suitcase. I am now our mile-wide bed.

I envy the rim of pop cans that get to

taste you and be sipped from while our tongues

meet and cannot tangle for the glass

between our skin. I chew the loneliness

and it is packed into my teeth, a cavity.

Savor the weekend and starve the week.

The archway woven in morning glories

with your absence inside. If I step

through it will we once again intertwine?

I’m so homesick for your chest and I

could drown you until you’re gasping for life

just to take a shallow bath in you.

I grieve Wednesdays because when was it last

that we glued our fingers together on

a Wednesday?  I am now just a half,

a third, a quarter of the dollar

that I am always trading you for.

Monday is the space between us

I had to have my mom tuck me in every night as a child

Sleep has always been so hard for me

So she obliged

I remember whenever my parents turned off the TV and started padding down the hall

Anxiety would rise in my throat

I remember one time staring at the ceiling so long that the sun rose and I heard the whirring of my mom’s hairdryer

Most of the time, I would sleep on the couch

I had a dream there once that I walked right into the ocean

I woke up holding my breath

I don’t hold my breath anymore

Now I tuck myself in

I lie in bed
A poem in my head
Words sit on my tongue
at the tip of my lip
to tired to write
or record the idea
afraid I’ll lose my thought

My body’s worn down
Each and every bone hurts
on my shoulders and back
not something a massage heals
or a pill can kill
it’s all age related and exercise driven
I refuse to stop just push on like I’m eleven

I drift off to sleep
suddenly I’m in heaven
A heated exchange
A new lover revealed
I awaken for work
Eyeball my weekly schedule  
I feel fatigued looking

the tree’s

knobby
puckered
lichen lips
susurrate

beckon
cathy come closer
kiss my lusciousness

it was if its words
were spoken
through a whispered hiss
passing out of labial
looking petrified fungi

i smile and nod
at the phallic structure’s
ugliness

then give thanks
i still look good enough
for a fungus on a tree
to hustle me

I can recycle this dying fridge
for fifty dollars

if I can make loaves
out of those bills

I can spend sweat
on the dusty baseboards

if one arm is stronger
than the will of the mattress

I can trade breath
with my magnolia tree

if I pluck her dead leaves
from my gutters

I can hold this sunset

if I let her stumble
through my fingers

Daisy: A Texas Heeler

Daisy is a heeler,

Who lives on our farm,

She patrols the boundaries,

So that nothing comes to harm.

She chases the little birdies,

That hop around the yard,

And all the wild rabbits,

Find she makes their lives so hard.

Now and then she goes in swimming,

In the creek down in the field,

And herds the water striders,

If they are smart they’ll yield. 

She swims circles round them and nips them,

Her own aquatic stock,

Keeps them bunched in the pools,

So they can’t hide in the rocks. 

When water work leaves her weary,

She runs up the bank,

Trailing water everywhere,

Her hair all wet and lank.

She hasn’t time to fret appearances,

She must go check the mules,

Without her to guide them,

Who would tend the long-eared fools?

She circles them and nips them,

Making sure they know she’s there,

Perhaps wondering if they know their luck,

That they are in her care.

She has to then go check the cattle,

Cows, calves, bull and steers,

To let them know she’s on patrol,

And to assuage their fears.

Then to the house in the evening,

And after the late meal,

She finds it’s time for a nap,

Some quiet time to steal.

Nestled in my lap,

Where she’s slept since she was a pup,

Never mind that she’s too large,

Now that she’s all grown up. 

She heaves a sigh and grumbles,

As she drifts of in a fog,

Such a busy life she leads,

Our little speckled dog. 

at the vet clinic
on a sun-drenched Sunday morn
no more to say here

every morning my phone reminds me of
so many places i’ve been people i’ve run off
or lost and it is irritating the living shit out of me

all my life i’ve prided myself for staying at
the surface of things ignoring and getting over
the past perfectly content to fuck around and find out

and now the end is near and so i face …
never mind it’s not me doing it it’s my phone
i’ve looked for the setting to turn it off and i can’t find it

no android reprogram no apple re-bite
i’m watching these damn youtube videos about
companion robots and just waiting for prices to come down

Enough I say of dying
Enough I say of death
Too many names for counting
Too many times bereft  

Enough I say of grieving
Enough I say of loss
Too many faces fading
Too many memories tossed  

Enough I say of missing
Enough I say of  tears
Too many deaths are coming
Too many ends are near