Flutters
butterfly kisses
twitches and rolls
hiccups
rhythmic and steady
phantom
gone
Gone
not in heaven
not in spirit
no signs
burned
not in the dirt
or in the sea
but by my bed
for me
Chores
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
I have both
because the desire
To wipe the table
and bury my child
Is the same
Write
My hand moves too fast
and skips the words that
Hurt the most
Please, Hope, Maybe
Daytime
What is it about the sun
whether clear or fogged
that can get us out of bed
When the shiver hasn’t left our skin
How is it that it can
put our feet
on the ground
when our jaws still ache
from the nightmare
What is it about
the promise of warmth
that pushes us out
into the world
when every other
morning’s promise
is broken by noon
There is no Santa…
Control is a story they sell you
Choice is a ploy we share
so that we can survive
ourselves
Ramblings
Scribbles or script
choices or luck
fell or fought
Dreamt or earned
taken or lost
live or die
love and hate
Didn’t do a damn thing
Born a daughter
made a sister
ran to a wife
Fell into a mom
Felt into a momma
given grammie
wasted it all
Whatevs
What am I doing
trying to grow up now
The audacity
of maturing in the
last half of my life
The gall of me
to ask the
point of me
now that she’s gone
Daughter
She hated when
I would lick
my thumb
and wipe her face
It was her cheek
her mess to clean
but she was mine
to perfect, protect
Who Knows
The cormorant (bird) and the fish
Living in the same world
Eating from the same waters
Hunting for the same food
Creating similar ripples
Through their instinct to survive
……..
God and me
Him first, of course
And then me, of course, Him
I love Him, he’s blessed me
I love Him because he’s blessed me
You? I don’t understand
God first, then me.
……
That evil doesn’t exist because I don’t know it
That evil isn’t real because I can’t see it
That evil can’t hurt because I haven’t felt it.
Why would I lend a hand
To something I can’t be expected to understand
That Good doesn’t exist because I don’t know it
That God isn’t real because I can’t see it
That God can’t love because I haven’t felt it
Why would I pray for grace
To something I can’t be expected to understand
……
Scared and alone
Did i do the right thing
did i choose based on who i used to be
I am not that person anymore
I can’t do those things
Think, organize, decide
….
So much happening all at once
In the quietest of quiet
Light with shadow
Ripples with glass
Warmth with chill
Life with death
……..
Yellow Hearts and Black Hair Ties 