today is forever
and for today
I can hold you and giggle
I can put you in my lap and cuddle
I can stroke your furry softness
and for today
I can breathe in your soft breath
I can hide in my pillow from your doggy kisses
I can revel in your funny grin
and for today
I can race you to the chair
I can save the cat from your wrath
I can watch as you scout out the yard for danger
because today is forever
and tomorrow
tomorrow is not yet to be
I am growing older
and I can see the number of my days
but not yet
They are formless
hinting at a greater loss
but not yet
they dream of shorter steps and
runless days
but not yet
they promise only less
not more
but not yet
because today
is the day of life
and it is the day
I celebrate
not yet
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
made and unmade
made by my mother
unmade by her pain
made by my father
unmade by disdain
made by my friends
unmade as I grew
made by my voices
unmade by them too
made by my lovers
unmade when love fled
made by my husband
the unmaking I dread
made by my children
grandchildren
and more
made by myself
now I'm no longer
poor
made by my mother
unmade by her pain
made by my father
unmade by disdain
made by my friends
unmade as I grew
made by my voices
unmade by them too
made by my lovers
unmade when love fled
made by my husband
the unmaking I dread
made by my children
grandchildren
and more
made by myself
now I'm no longer
poor
Saturday, March 07, 2015
The house
Windows drooping in sleepy
Obedience
Doors whisper to their jambs
Stairs give up their burdenous day
Creaking with heartfelt sighs
Tomorrow may we be filled
With laughter ... Love ... You
Again
sun drenched doves wings
Gaily play
With blue hills racing by
They tip their wings
At seagulls
Shades against the sky
The pull of tide, the sands warm breath
Draw seas and shells ashore
They'll sit and watch eternity
As we do evermore
The bright moon is my nightlight
The stars they light my way
They fairy dust the night time sky
And wander wild and fey
The wind directs my footfalls
As I join their midnight play
Until the morning steals their light
And moonfall fades to day
For you Carolyn
Windows drooping in sleepy
Obedience
Doors whisper to their jambs
Stairs give up their burdenous day
Creaking with heartfelt sighs
Tomorrow may we be filled
With laughter ... Love ... You
Again
sun drenched doves wings
Gaily play
With blue hills racing by
They tip their wings
At seagulls
Shades against the sky
The pull of tide, the sands warm breath
Draw seas and shells ashore
They'll sit and watch eternity
As we do evermore
The bright moon is my nightlight
The stars they light my way
They fairy dust the night time sky
And wander wild and fey
The wind directs my footfalls
As I join their midnight play
Until the morning steals their light
And moonfall fades to day
For you Carolyn
Monday, February 16, 2015
My first short story of, well, a long long time.
The rock fell onto the cold, dusty floor, trembling layers of paneled walls and oak floors, finally ending with a dull thud against concrete, four floors below. I stood, trembling as well, waiting for the angry voices, threatening shouts and hoarse footsteps deafening the rocks clumsy descent … nothing.
Bored of waiting, I wandered out into the hallway, stopping at the window seat across from the banister curving down through acres of wood. Glancing briefly at the car in the drive, I slowly raised my eyes to encompass the forest surrounding the glade cradling a long curving drive and disappearing into a sea of cypress, oak and pine.
The rock fell onto the cold, dusty floor, trembling layers of paneled walls and oak floors, finally ending with a dull thud against concrete, four floors below. I stood, trembling as well, waiting for the angry voices, threatening shouts and hoarse footsteps deafening the rocks clumsy descent … nothing.
Bored of waiting, I wandered out into the hallway, stopping at the window seat across from the banister curving down through acres of wood. Glancing briefly at the car in the drive, I slowly raised my eyes to encompass the forest surrounding the glade cradling a long curving drive and disappearing into a sea of cypress, oak and pine.
“Where did you go?”
At first it had been exciting, the angry voices, the slamming doors. The “never coming back,” echoing through the early winter air, first warmed and then chilled my soul. They couldn’t mean it. After all, I belonged to them, bone to bone, inseparable … or so I thought. Maybe not.
I slumped down on the dusty seat, glaring at the wind inspired particles now drifting in the air. They tried to leave, they really did, dragging suitcases dripping arms and legs of cashmere and cotton, thrown hurriedly in the trunk, slammed shut. Car doors slammed, less enthusiastically and then the errrr cough ... errrr cough ... errrrrr of a misfiring engine. Silence.
I pushed up on my elbows and stared again, remembering. Angry voices, escalated and I felt their shattering stares through the glass, shards piercing my soul. A moment later, stomping away from the immobile car, the blaming, complaining dimmed in the distance as they stomped, then strode and finally seeped away down the drive into the forest; the echoes, “it’s only a mile or two, come on.” fading into their distance and finally disappearing altogether.
It had been four days. They had not returned.
Alone again … well I was well accustomed to being alone, but the loneliness, that was interminable. Fading through the hall, gliding down the stairs, I picked at remnants of white sheets tucked into alcoves, ready to spring forth at a moments notice, rocks stacked in dim corners that could echo throughout the house their agenda as hidden as their location, maybe I had overdone it a bit … but it had been so long. They seemed to enjoy the tension of not knowing, the fear … at first.
I stepped away from the house, the front door hissing behind me, "don’t go too far".
"As if I can," I hissed back, invisible footprints marking my progress.
Stepping into the clearing I stared at the car, encouraged the engine into life and ordered it into the pond at the back of the house … it was getting full. At least the car wasn't afraid of my kind ... I guess 'ghost' was close enough. I felt my skin sizzle against the closeness of the trees, turned and glided back into my sanctuary … my safe, secure, sanctuary.
Alone, lonely, again.
At first it had been exciting, the angry voices, the slamming doors. The “never coming back,” echoing through the early winter air, first warmed and then chilled my soul. They couldn’t mean it. After all, I belonged to them, bone to bone, inseparable … or so I thought. Maybe not.
I slumped down on the dusty seat, glaring at the wind inspired particles now drifting in the air. They tried to leave, they really did, dragging suitcases dripping arms and legs of cashmere and cotton, thrown hurriedly in the trunk, slammed shut. Car doors slammed, less enthusiastically and then the errrr cough ... errrr cough ... errrrrr of a misfiring engine. Silence.
I pushed up on my elbows and stared again, remembering. Angry voices, escalated and I felt their shattering stares through the glass, shards piercing my soul. A moment later, stomping away from the immobile car, the blaming, complaining dimmed in the distance as they stomped, then strode and finally seeped away down the drive into the forest; the echoes, “it’s only a mile or two, come on.” fading into their distance and finally disappearing altogether.
It had been four days. They had not returned.
Alone again … well I was well accustomed to being alone, but the loneliness, that was interminable. Fading through the hall, gliding down the stairs, I picked at remnants of white sheets tucked into alcoves, ready to spring forth at a moments notice, rocks stacked in dim corners that could echo throughout the house their agenda as hidden as their location, maybe I had overdone it a bit … but it had been so long. They seemed to enjoy the tension of not knowing, the fear … at first.
I stepped away from the house, the front door hissing behind me, "don’t go too far".
"As if I can," I hissed back, invisible footprints marking my progress.
Stepping into the clearing I stared at the car, encouraged the engine into life and ordered it into the pond at the back of the house … it was getting full. At least the car wasn't afraid of my kind ... I guess 'ghost' was close enough. I felt my skin sizzle against the closeness of the trees, turned and glided back into my sanctuary … my safe, secure, sanctuary.
Alone, lonely, again.
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October in Vermont 2007
