Terry Horn - More Poems
mother
had it difficult
juggling
the job and
sex
smells
like propane
or
somebody dying
in
the basement
she
made me smile
all the while
crying
her way
thru the day
where I live
now
there are horses
not everyone
drives a car
I can imagine
that
I guess
finally gone crazy
free from the
everyday
silly
her smile
could
break your heart
so
be careful
and somewhere in
the past
there is
this tiny person
waiting
write something new
make it up
the day began
like
any other
except
I had
gotten
up early to
look
out the window
at the shadows
they were all there
gathering
getting ready for
thanksgiving
I will make the turkey
if you
help
***
long
after
you left
your words stayed
your breathe
found a pen
wrote instructions
here to burn
so I moved
because
I had to find
someplace
far enough away
to visit
cleaned
the old house
putting words
carefully in boxes
I know you understand
I know you just
do not
like to talk
use such words
***
became ill I
suspect
became a drawing
artist rendered
here is today
complete
didn’t notice that you
noticed
pretend we are well
and fine
I am not
I hope
you are
courage is the peace
and the power
they were sisters
having
dinner with their father
my job
was to bring
the mac and cheese
the steak salad
the onion ring appetizer
dad had pasta
young and bored and
awkward and waiting
for happiness
I wish I could
bring them that and
maybe
I did
for the sisters
lucky
have heat
hot water for tea
biscotti
honey
from the farm
on the road
with the bees
I needed a cigarette
alcohol and drugs
just to get thru
confession
I married a couch
with a tv remote
a gun looking
for a bullet
drove down dirt roads
finding jesus and carl sagan
elvis
before he went to vegas
hitch hiking near memphis
now
as in today
the sun rise
that can only happen
once
you were wet
covered in fur
it
was raining
the sky
laughing
crying
begging to learn
time
stuck to my shoe
leaves
mud on the floor
the memory arrives tomorrow
who invented the shovel
I sit
with squirrels and chipmonks
bluebirds and butterflies
“get a job”
the cats are yelling
I do not understand
and
into the earth we
go
dream
I was digging
I hate this day
here comes tomorrow
grew up
mystified
by mother earth
maybe
I am a poetess
searching for words
think
that is what
I will be
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