Poem, snippets and essays of my life

Category: Abandonment

  • Craters in the moon

    When I was eight years old my father brought home home a long, rectangular cardboard box which he opened after dinner carefully outside our front door. It was a clear night and warm as I recall and he removed from the box like a surgeon removing a baby from the belly of an unconscious woman…

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  • Loss

    Loss

    Loss In the gray half open eye period prior to full alert status I feel a touch or maybe an outstretched limb, a phantom connection I may remember. Warm and wanting.. Delaying the awakening I dwell there In hopeful desire among my fresh sheets, memories of sun fragrant and salt drying, my fingers on your…

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  • Maybe

    Maybe

        Soon Enough   It is dark nearly all of the time. People have forgotten the feel of water. Lifetimes have shortened Partners are assigned The dictionary has been revised. So many words no longer exist, Joy, Hope, Heart ,Listen, Compassion, Friendship, Cookie, Sunshine, Language Touch The past disappeared so rapidly that history Forgot…

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  • The Best Memory

    The Best Memory

                                       The Best Memory     The best Fall I remember happened outside of Paris due north near Chambord in November maybe October’s when the Beaujolais Nouveau was released along with me…I walked out the door of the inn we stayed in while you drank with our host. I wandered following troughs of wet leaves…

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  • Untitled post 2989

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  • In Reality

    For the longest time I thought I might become someone else. I could be Norwegian and learn the language well so people would say how no one could tell I wasn’t a native. My hair would miraculously turn blond. It would be ok to like sex. I like the sounds of their desserts. Or I…

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  • The Length of Winter

    I forgot how long winter is. It doesn’t extend from November to March as it should but it’s disobedient and sometimes hides inside a heart and a chamber to the left or to the right and there you are with only a part of your heart functioning because of winter or it’s a fact. You…

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  • A great review for The…

    A great review for The...

    www.columbiatribune.com/entertainment/20201002/poet-sifts-strange-difficult-memories-in-search-for-clarity

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  • Wasp Homelife

    Wasp Homelife

    “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, we bury the upper crust. “

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  • The Hard, Cold Snow

    The Coming of the Snow The hard, cold snow is here, The kind that makes you wince. The great, crackling steps one takes that sink unexpectedly, Mother earth reminding you she’s but a heavy footfall away. So a morning walk becomes impossible and the dog, depressed. Your husband reminds you how he loves the winter…

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