Friday, June 27, 2008


Rain pours round
our house and joins the
waving fields
of waiting
for everything to dry - out
palms skyward, we dance.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

The Man Who Made Me

Wish I'd met the man who made me
the one who found his way to life
in his own summer of love.

The one who, in a hospital bed,
clasped the arm of a nurse that must be me.
The one who - later - traveled far, then
lay down and cried at my grave.

He lost his way
somewhere between love and life
but, kept me closed up in his heart
and never told, but always thought.

His brain betrayed him
and took his life before I had the chance
to say . . .

My Last Supper

A meal of mostly meat
to last more than the night
fills me up before the body knows to register it's dismay.

Ribs stuck to the bone and
scattered bits of barbecue mix
with a simple crunch of chips.

All rests like a stone above my hips
and follows me.
It whispers to me of long nights waking
and a morning light with
no desire for more.

Monday, June 23, 2008

They're Coming For You

The Weather Service is proud to announce
a tornado was spotted three miles from your house.
Find a dark narrow room, you know what to do.
Take cover. The twister is coming for you.

The crank-n-go tv inside your small room
recalls an odd man with a strange accent who
holds a sizzling cannonball in his outstretched hand.
If he should lob it, we know where it lands.

So, you pull into church and pray for safe keeping,
then return to find your GPS isn't beeping.
How will you know quite where you are
or where you are headed, or exactly how far?

A passenger played with his shoe mid-flight,
a guy hung around the ATM last night,
a jiggle at the front door had something in mind,
look both ways before crossing the street - and behind.