i built a new corner
and walked straight into it
left the paint on the floor
drying
held my arms high and my head straight
buried the forgotten
forgave the remembered
worshiped nothing
but silence
and the tenacity
of trees
throwing spring green buds
into air
like so much
confetti
and now they say it’s not that bad, the sky isn’t
falling and here we are, bits of blue in our hair,
trapped in the rat-maze tracks we’ve worn in the
carpet, no longer even trying to get out.
and now they say sorry, so sorry, sorry, not sorry
and no one knows who cares, doesn’t care,
can’t care, wouldn’t care, cares too much,
has gone mad with the caring, can’t find
a damn thing to care about.
and now the sky is blue but it’s always raining and
the basement’s flooding, water seeping in around
the edges, no one sees if we close the door, ignore
the smell, carry on with dinner and distraction and
pretend people aren’t dying in a dark spreading puddle
of sour statistic.
and now. the question that only ever has one
answer, the damned unprepared living of it all,
smiling when the sun hits your face for one brief
silent moment, aching for life, alive love
laughter landing, burning through the
empty stare of days.
and now.
…
in the black lace
morning moment sunrise
hand held branch felled heart meld
water warped meander walk
of worship
…
the taste of tea and whispers of envy
smells of green and cinnamon
rolling through a harbor of unbalance
too late too much too early too little
promises skitter in every dark corner
wallflower flower built for keeping
pressed between pages
hidden bouquet
there is no bitterness here
nor regret
just the walking off
weary worry
weight of the world
no solutions to carry
no voice fuel to parry
no answers hidden
in the littered grey gravel
just anger fury fear glinting off the back
of the (slick fake true) reel news
this sky that sky this sky
always leading always following
bluest
not enough
never
not enough
too much too much too much
to reach so high
…
squirrel fight
dove coo
blue jay belligerent
.
skin soaking up sun
anti mirror
wide smile
prismatic
.
desiderata
forgotten
.
and she walked
the center line
straight past the pond
of forgiveness
.
as if it were possible
to live anything
but
the life lived
the moment living
the day dreamed
the evening
revealed
…
it’s not that
everything’s rosy
or perfect
(the horror!)
but there are flowers
and sunshine
presiding over tea
and i have this minute
(just the one)
to marvel
at the color
of stamina
…
i wrote a book
and threw it away
planted seed
and failed to weed
learned to play
and broke my fiddle
climbed a mountain
and laughed an echo
mixed the dough
and measured hunger
fought the wind
and ran for miles
counted stitches
and broke the needle
breathed in sky
and failed to fly
opened arms
and held you high
…
