Category: Kindness
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runaway leaf
dangled on a spider’s thread simple shape no forking fingered hand golden spinning blade in angled early light last night’s descent caught mid-flight upon a fiber hold still I’ll untangle you help you land 10-13-21
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Through the broken glass
You have grown tired of sickness All the news, all the fake news and Graphs spinning in fractal mazes You want to sit with friends Say hi to strangers Enjoy music and poetry in a crowded room You want to attend workshops in person See peoples’ gears grind as they respond to prompts Wander aimlessly…
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Before the cock crows 3 times
trash barrel rattles something alive inside tap the barrel nothing climbs out walk to the pond sip coffee dry still the barrel rattles something alive inside listen as it scratches up sides desperate to flee halfway home an inner voice says kindness to all means all life is sacred grab trash tongs from porch walk…
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dog walker haikus
yellow dog, brown dog black and tan, brindle or white tight, shaggy or coiffed respectful walkers stoop to gather poop in bags before they stroll on penis on a chain pit bull mix pulls him through park too proud to bag shit Chihuahua on leash acts like it’s a big, bad dog makes me laugh…
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migrant worker
Before I leave home To visit the home That was my home But is no longer I gather a brown paper bag With a malt liquor can Left by an old man who walks Humped over with a cane He leaves it every Friday Across from where he lives Under a bench In the shade…
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For lack of a piece of chalk
Thoughts haunt; selfish thoughts that disagree with kindness, with what you believe to be truth. You try to be a better human, hope belief can erase the blackboard of mitochondrial neurons, but for lack of a piece of chalk a felt tipped marker has rendered you indelibly unclean. 6-19-21
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reading an erasure poem
Once You told me, A good poem Has spaces Between Words For a reader To co-create You fashioned A love poem By erasing Words From prose And asked If I’d refill The spaces I told you, No, because I knew I would Self-edit And I didn’t Want to start Our friendship With a lie 4-23-21
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Poem Inspired when Driving in the Far Left Lane and Needing to Be in the Far Right Lane And Remembering You were Going to Buy Your Wife a Large Pike Blend During Heavy Morning Traffic
Shit, damn it – get off my ass Don’t you see my turn signal? (Nod your head, wave thank you) To the driver who let you slide over one lane Shit, damn it – you didn’t get over enough Drive past your turn (Nod your head, wave thank you) To the driver who let you…
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pressed cider
Mom had a friend from church who had a friend who had a cousin who sold fresh pressed cider in gallon jars at the end of his lane along the river road; she would buy a jug or two for cold evenings for a hot drink while watching Lawrence Welk. One weekend, she sent me…
My husband's poetry 