Poetry - 2022
The tease (081722)
Though your physical presence
Had disappeared
Yet you lingered
The echoes of your voice
Suspended like spider webs
Buffeted by a breeze
You teased us
With hope
With the promise of vitality
And healing
Until, like a master magician,
You whipped the rug
From under us
And left us flailing on the ground
Grateful for the hope
And the moments of joy
But ultimately
Aching in the wake
Of your disappearance
You will be our saviors (081722)
You will be our saviors
You, the California Fence Lizard
With your stylish fatigues
And your mime-like movements
You, the Field Mouse
Still as a windowless room
Save the gentle heaving of your back
As you breathe
You, the Coyote
Emerging from a bush
As surprised as I am
That we should meet
You, the Mallard
Scavenging in the creek’s shallow water
Before taking flight
You will be our saviors
Reminding us of the beauty
Of the moment
And its power over the sweep of history
It is you to whom we humans
Will be grateful
Once we remove our blinders
No Love Lost (081722)
She entered father’s life
Nine months to the day
After mother’s passing
She was cold and humorless
The day after we met
I dreamt I had lost my heart
It was an omen
She took everything
As an affront
She was my father’s world
At least in the beginning
He was not hers
Their final years together
Took their toll
At father’s 90th birthday party
She refused to come
Knowing it was not about her
A friend told father he was looking forward
To next year’s party
Father confided he hoped he would not
Be alive to celebrate it
Is this where we are? (062622)
Forced to create life
And invited to take it away
Sentenced to life
For another’s crime
Struggling to feed ourself
But expected to pay the half a million-dollar bill
That comes with raising a child in America
Setting aside our dream
To care for a child we did not ask for
Who will likely spend years in therapy
Because hiding resentment is harder than it looks
And yet
A few more lives lost
Here and there
Down the street
And everywhere
Is a small price to pay
For that cool Rambo look
What matters (041822)
We welcome people to our home
OUR home
We ask people to have a seat on OUR furniture
Sip from OUR wine chalices
Eat from OUR good china
Sleep in OUR guest bed
We do this despite the fact that we are all nomads
Without a suitcase to our name
With nothing that really matters
Save the painting by our father
The scribbles of our child
The quilt stitched by our grandmother
Because those belong not to us
But to the spirit of their creators
We are but their caretakers
Our most valuable possessions
Are our stories
Our perspectives
Our values
Our light of human kindness
They are all that matter
And all that can matter
In this experiment called life
When I belong (041822)
When I belong
I can fulfill the promise of me
When I belong
I can relinquish my fear
And settle into a deep nap
Without one eye open
When I belong
Doors are not locked
Windows are not secured
Walls are not built
Because of who I am
When I belong
People listen to me
They cheer me on
They treat me as the amazing being I am
When I belong
I can fulfill the promise of me
The crown of conceit (032022)
Celebrate your laurels
But don’t rest on them
They will not support the weight
Of your self-congratulation
Stories of your accolades
Will lose their sparkle quickly
And dreams are just that
Until the die is cast
There was once a young girl
Who played the piano
As though hers were the hands of God
She lived in a spotlight of adulation
That dimmed her light
And stunted her growth
Those she met soon wandered off
Weary of her past
With no hope for the future
Once they adorn your head
The laurels begin to die
Seize the opportunity
Of a new day
Writing (012622)
Unencumbered by distraction
I gave birth to you in the early morning hours
One word at a time
Parts of you were fully formed
Others were nothing more than a promise
When you were ready, sleep had to wait
It paid to write you down and hope you were not mistaken for something else
Since handwriting is not taught anymore
Otherwise you would likely return to an unseen universe of ephemeral thought
Where rescues are treacherous
Though of my creation, I marvel at your miraculous nature
Happy when I manage to harness your power
Grateful you have chosen me
The serenity years (012522)
She was an overnight success
Thirty years in
Before the first rays of dawn hit the pavement
And erased the passage of time
In the early years she enjoyed the accolades of friends, family, even teachers
But now a world of strangers sang her praises
And wished they were her
Despite knowing nothing of her ghost years
She paid them no mind
Relishing now in her seventh decade
Lessons learned, wisdom gained
And the absurdity of comparison
These would be her serenity years
Creation without expectation
Action without explanation
And time without measurement