I like people who don’t take life too seriously but who do take very seriously the gratitude for being alive.
-all posts-
Play-grounding
i can muster up
some pretty good
grace & elegance
if need be — but
when it comes to
chocolate, crayons
or playful animals
i always become a
bumbling giggling
messy little girl —
Wondering
she was wandering
completely lost —
yet on the path
the whole time
Now, in a Later Spring
Once, long ago, I heard an old man say,
“Two pounds of sorrow is the price you pay
For every pound of bliss.”
But I was young and such a reckoning
Seemed far too steep; now, in a later spring,
I’d gladly offer far, far more than this.
—Alice Mackenzie Swaim, “Now, in a Later Spring,” Crickets Are Crying Autumn, 1960
In effect
guilt, grief, regret
cut deeper than
the dimensions
of the soul itself
Questions of the Sky
—Anonymous, The Queries Magazine, 1890
Cutthroat
squeeze tight — dollars drip,
lay off loyalty — tears drop,
squeeze tighter — cents bleed
U.$.A.
America —
toxic profit
center of
the world
Beyond the horizon
I still believe in some faraway place where it’s all okay.
Gastronomical event
apocalyptic theory
giant alien pops earth like
minty fresh extinction
Forever…
as inevitable as
aging and taxes —
death is no longer
the surety it was
Vanished
i hurt every day remembering
that i wasn’t there for you
the hardest day of suffering
— i left you painfully alone
when you needed me most
so damn close, but not there
which is the farthest away —
i was a fool, oblivious numbskull
a frozen hearted ragdoll zombie
i am sorry.
Falling to pieces
I’m a dandelion puff in a harsh wind.