Category: Belonging / Loneliness
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The introvert
in the middle of green stands a trellis alone no vines, no roses, no flowers freshly painted, pristine immaculate a sentinel unable to leave its posting autumn will soon turn green brown silently, it implores spring to curve life around its frame 9-12-20
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Drapes
today I don’t know why but today I thought of you and wondered why today one day the house was empty the next day it was not drapes in every window we must have been fifteen you moved into a house on Osage I was your paperboy the Journal & Courier sent a note to…
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meditation on dying
before the rain before you settle in for the night you walk familiar streets admire mowed lawns limbs trimmed stacked along curbs waiting for the city to haul away _____ sweaty shirt sticks to back and belly trees touch arching green over quiet streets silence thrums just before cicadas roar _____ kudzu pulls roof and…
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old photo
Tonight, I saw a picture of the last time we sat and talked We did not know it was our last time and that soon I’d race through the night across six states to listen to last breaths If we knew it was our last time would you have consented to a hug _____ We…
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Adverbs
In our COVID-19 quarantine world, existence is sedentary. We watch dog walkers all day, family walkers in the evening. We wave and exchange greetings from a safe distance. Occasionally, in faded yellow lawn chairs someone stops, sits and talks across your fire pit from ten feet away You feed them lethargy, pour adverbs over stacks…
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For Riva’s Franma
I’ve inhaled the last third of my half of low country blueberry pie Licked my fingers the four pronged fork and fed squirrels the crust With sugared lips and purple poop I return sated to ketosis 8-6-20
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Nuts
Knock, knock Is someone at the door or am I dreaming? I lie in the dark wondering where I put my mask. I wait for a second knock. Knock, knock Rolling sound on roof Dull thud on ground In a time of quarantine only a nut would come knocking unannounced at someone’s house 8-5-20
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That guy
I am that guy that guy who stands in a museum up close to a Frankenthaler painting looking at an individual stroke where a brush fiber rises up thinking everything I discern had meaning for the painter I am that guy that guy who stares at a Kahlo piece from across a gallery trying to…
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A rainy night haiku for our lonely quarantine
cicadas and rain tree frogs calling back and forth street lights with halos 7-6-20
My husband's poetry 