Category: regrets
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after reading Yevtushenko haiku
with backward glances we buildup pyres of regret face forward and live 12-21-21
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AARP
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by
The retired Pied Piper tried to forget What he did to village children Sat on a park bench and thought There was much to learn from a pond: The way it does not flee away to the sea The way reflected clouds and trees don’t pollute water The way a stone will skip before it…
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“Why not say, hi?”
“She seems to know you.” “Yes.” “Why not say, hi?” He swallows a bite of the pastry we’d just bought from the girl at the counter. “She’s from the neighborhood and I had sex with her four years ago.” “And you can’t speak now?” “She had sex with all the boys; it was just my…
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Behind the screen
he tries to understand young girls raised to venerate the Virgin but women who came to veneration late in life are who he needs to hear and ask forgiveness 9-23-21
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School yard shark
Cat eyes, milkies, puries, aggies, speckled whites and blues and blacks, a steely shooter my prized possession. I lost it to a chipped cat eye. He put it in his pocket and used the damaged shooter, until I wouldn’t wager anymore good marbles against his lucky one. He gathered up his winnings in a draw…
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Room 511
I didn’t walk yesterday, ordered out for wings, didn’t cook or lift weights, went to bed before 9, told myself it was just a nap. 4 am, I woke from a dream I had been sent to Room 511 to prepare a patient for electro shock therapy. I untied her gown, strapped her tight to…
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Dad
Last visit home photo of our sitting before I raced back To count your last breaths, I wonder what you may have thought of saying. But didn’t, because holding it inside was who you were 11-22-20
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Dad
Yesterday, was three years since I counted your last breaths. I tried to post about it, but didn’t. I thought of the summer before college. I was going to walk across America with a staff I carved from a sapling and kept behind the door of my room. I was going to listen to American…
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on the day after the anniversary of the 1000-year flood
sitting in the chill he wears a jacket over his shirt sweat pants, socks with shoes believes he wears bare essentials but under it all a naked chest, flaccid penis bare feet that wish to run like the wind beneath and above the he of him, treads memories flooding streets outside his door toddler in…
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for Duane
What ever happened to the boy in school With pop bottle lens Who couldn’t play like other boys at recess Who didn’t stand and fight Or wrestle his tormentors; I was a tormentor I didn’t know at the time I was, but I was gifted at making cutting remarks Disguised as humor to make Classmates…
My husband's poetry 