Life Sentence


 

Here are my hands, pulling apart the arms of the
Berry bush, to find this little blue planet.
If I don’t take you now, sweetheart,
You are dead. I see your little sister
Squashed flat in the hay under my
Baby’s Keen sandal. So I’ve come out here in the
Wednesday morning to give you
Your ending. I might drop you in the
Box or just as well eat you right now
But what difference does it make?
The answer to your question isn’t in the
Planting or the weeding or whether or
Not that tired farmer sprayed you
Undoubtedly with Roundup. By the time
The Berry Ferry comes full circle to
Fetch us and the rest of the harried
Mothers, here you will be, come
Full stop at the end of your
Life sentence.
  … Read on…Life Sentence

Once We Cross Over to Pennsylvania



Once we cross over to Pennsylvania
The land returns to my father;
Hills blasted apart then coated with
Soft green allegheny down.
Shadow makers crawling across
The blue sky in pipe drawn
Huffs. Thin bridges dangle
Semi trailers above a river trace.
A now-you-see-now-you-don’t
Hex flashes a mysterious smile
From the red barn passing.
Pheasant mutters wilkommen under her breath.

Then good pine friends like all of us
(Older than we ever expected and barer)
Lean against each other as
They pass a day again
Inside this great, dark forest
Beside the interstate.

— from the road

Read on…Once We Cross Over to Pennsylvania

Thoughts Escaping


Out here I can’t
Seem to keep anything
Inside. Even with the
A/C running full tilt
And the house sealed from
Heat blasting, I can’t
Stop the magnetic pull
Of the horizon and its
Girl-sweet clouds like
Back-up singers filling
The harmony. The box on the
Corner of Timberline is
Just a birdhouse I
Flit in and out of–
Excuse I give to survey
The prairie between this
Bush and that tree and count
The acres of home where
My thoughts escaping. … Read on…Thoughts Escaping

Micro


You are so little that I can’t
Help but wonder as I
Micromanage your tiny
Spirit — what difference does
It make? I’ll choose today’s
Sandals and tomorrow’s salad
Dressing and it’s all the small
Stuff that I’m not having to
Sweat so I wipe away the
Beads from the floor underneath
Your feet to keep you
Safe and
Finish
My daily flaggelations,
Remembering to
And ask you if you’d
Like chocolate or
Vanilla– good girl me!
As if I’ve
Conquered
All
My personal
Beasts in
A single
Micro
Minute.

— from the road
Read on…Micro

Navigating



I’ve chosen a road for us
To go and now we are
Headed on out
Because this is the way I
Have said we should go.

What do I know?
I am some tiny god in this
Escher kingdom and I hate all
This exacting power. I don’t want the
Ability to kiss and
Make better–

No. I am greedy and small. Take
Me blind and better
Up the trail and leave
Me there to blaze new
Miseries alone.

Why should I have
Authority or dominion
Over any when I am so far away
And flawed? No. Take me to the
Boundary waters and drop me
There to flounder in the
Wild eddies
Without any plan, or thought
For navigating.

Read on…Navigating

Heart Work

I hear you. Tapping on the glass. You
Want to be let in. You’ve been patiently
Waiting on the stoop for so long, and you’ve
Done your job, enjoying the passersby and
Soaking up the sun. You’ve done all the
Cataloging of songbirds and counting the
Shades of sky as it shifts from dawn to
Dusk. You’ve had your fun, your rest,
Your respite from the toil of
Life. You’ve had your walkabout and
Now are tapping on the storm door
And asking to be let back in to
Work. My heart, I am saying
I hear you. … Read on…Heart Work

I Touched Your Head


My sweet princess told Matt, the
Shoe salesman as he bent
Over her little foot, “I touched
Your head!” the last word lifting
Up like a startled sparrow leaving
A branch.

She might hear, someday, about
How the real once-upon-a-times
Would have raced with fear and terror,
If two such color blind
Strangers found themselves
Tossed together and had nothing
Else to do but
Be curious
And reach out,
In the normal way
People must do
Regardless.

Read on…I Touched Your Head