(2014)
Thoughts about pain.
You may not know what you’ll do next: Hit the open road With your thumb stuck out. Give up all you own
Great scientific minds Working for cures Of terminal diseases, The clock ticks... What is the cure
In the dead Of Winter, I long for Spring. In the rains Of Spring,
It is what it is Despite my wishes for it, Otherwise. You are who you are Despite my expectations,
When I first heard “The Blackbird,” In the middle Of night, I was just thirteen.
Blue star behind tree branch. White cloud passing half moon. Black space surrounds like a
Remember the night we took your mother’s car and drove over the skyway bridge? The moon was a bright light to show the way.
The white snow, thin Like sand, over The fields, blowing Across the road. My car rambles
At that magical time When the yellow moon Sets, And the pink mist Of dawn,
Yellow finches Line the bird feeder Against Spring’ s canopy Of green and purple tapestry. Back and forth they go
Today, I wish the pain to go, the fatigue that I fight so. This process of aging is unkind and yet, the law of nature is a fast lane of change.
If we could embrace our sorrow and surf on our tears, surely our hearts would grow wider to hold the years
An owl hoots on this cool, crisp Spring night. A sound that’s distant yet echos
It’s that time of year again. The sound of honking geese fills the air, as they pass in alignment, to the Deep South.
Oh hummingbird Where are you now? Have you taken My courage with you? Oh hummingbird