smile

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

silly

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

heart

her smile

could

break your heart

so

be careful

The Never Ending

and somewhere in
the past
there is
this tiny person

waiting

Thanksgiving

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

Onion Rings

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

bees

lucky
have heat
hot water for tea
biscotti
honey
from the farm
on the road
with the bees

grateful

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

shovel

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

presents

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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