Month: January 2014

Heart Failure

My heart surrendered. Too many years beating for the wrong Reasons–sure, got the blood going Where it needed to be, kept the brain On top of itself, all the billion cells Cavorting in the dance of division. But in all else, it failed, the heart, failed to do duty as eyes and ears, failed to … Continue reading “Heart Failure”

My heart surrendered.
Too many years beating for the wrong
Reasons–sure, got the blood going
Where it needed to be, kept the brain
On top of itself, all the billion cells
Cavorting in the dance of division.

But in all else, it failed,
the heart, failed to do duty
as eyes and ears, failed
to see what was in plain sight
failed to hear the cues,
or listen and know when to quit
the stage. It kept its hungry
longing alive, stuffed itself on whatever
felt good, no matter if it was right
or deadly–was not its place
to decide. It had a mind

all its own. It wanted
what it wanted. It took what it
could get. If it had to break
a thousand times into a million
pieces, it kept its steady drone.
Bam. Bam. Bam. Pulsing,
because once it started,
stopping felt like death.

 

 

January Drifts

We will not gather here again. You slip through time, I stand On a vacant shore. Your small boat Catches waves, drifts, swells, Whitecaps and breakers. We might once Have toyed with these, or, toppled, righted. Anymore, we are stranded. I haven’t arms To keep you afloat. All our terrors, Our worried minds, our loves– … Continue reading “January Drifts”

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We will not gather here again.
You slip through time, I stand
On a vacant shore. Your small boat
Catches waves, drifts, swells,
Whitecaps and breakers. We might once
Have toyed with these, or, toppled, righted.
Anymore, we are stranded. I haven’t arms
To keep you afloat. All our terrors,
Our worried minds, our loves–
We kick them off, like heavy shoes.
We tread, we huddle, we drift
So long we feel like creatures
Of the sea, hardly able to breathe.
The currents move so quick,
The horizon always shifts.

Weather

Where we lived, nothing blew over. We kept our fingers to the air and instruments around the house. We kept our gizmos to the weather. Even when it did not affect us, we knew to be prepared. We could see low clouds on night’s horizon, we could hear wind pounding across the woods. We felt … Continue reading “Weather”

Where we lived, nothing blew over.
We kept our fingers to the air
and instruments around the house.
We kept our gizmos to the weather.
Even when it did not affect us,
we knew to be prepared.

We could see low clouds on night’s
horizon, we could hear wind
pounding across the woods. We felt
heavy rains lashing the roof.
We cowered in the shower.

We could let nothing go
unnoticed. We counted every cloud.
We always had our umbrellas
so the sun could not leave us blind.

Talking to the Moon

I was talking to the moon, Interrupted by clouds and dark, even the stars blinked out of sight. She was so familiar. It seemed words were hardly necessary. She tilted into the sky, so inviting, her cratered face open, she was content to reflect borrowed light, silent beams bending in trees.

I was talking to the moon,
Interrupted by clouds and dark,
even the stars blinked
out of sight. She was so familiar.
It seemed words were hardly
necessary. She tilted
into the sky, so inviting,
her cratered face open, she was content
to reflect borrowed light,
silent beams bending in trees.