I’m too simple really;
I’d like to sit here
in my warm cotton aura
and be wise without worry,
old without ache.
I’ve lost the need to rise
but I love to twist.
Kiss the sky
In between
morning and evening,
like when the sky yawns
from purple to blue to orange
and back again,
my heart seeks the kissing times-
a break from papers and bread.
I like the moments
when I’m surprised
amid the humdrum,
like when love turns
from gentle to jackhammering.
The view looking back
The Golden times
are a myth born of
tears mucking up
the view…
we still had fields to see
and clouds to rifle
but the words were thick
and our song shaky,
leaving today with
dreams of scales
and windy drives
with so much quiet, it hurts.
Sidekick
The disappointments didn’t come
hard and fast. They rolled like
a Spanish “R,” long and smooth.
Chasing the ice-cream truck,
being locked out of the funhouse,
being the second or third choice
for everyone I’ve ever met…
There’s a place for me and it’s
the wise-cracking sidekick
that you don’t mind disappearing
in the third act. I’m the heroine’s
plucky, tragic friend.
Cute and dismissed.
It’s ok; I tracked Venus and Vega
with my rickety telescope tonight
and we’re all very, very small.
The Word Rummager 