Attendance

Posted on by

There Is much to care about

She decided softly, coming out of the sleep, hoping it’d be sun-filled today

No One can tell you you can’t

Too old to pretend there isn’t a timekeeper ticking, tsk-ing, somewhere 

At all the actual missed, like yesterday’s newest flowers or the tea together 

And the perpetual wish to cook something with saffron

The absence, the questions, the thoughts, the things she needs help with

Those photos for example 

Matter

Posted on by

What you know is there, there is
You sixth-sense the far rumble from many-a-mile 

With barometer’s grace, you notice the change 
In the air, in your knees, in the bees
An ambery atmosphere resonates now 

As it all becomes new, what you thought you knew 
Turns a corner and trouble you find

Want turns to need and then back again 
The dance in the walk of your days spins, then stumbles
Love lives deep and cannot tell why

The quiet speech inks the world and your skin
This means everything -beyond that, nothing

Can Dream

Posted on by

I want at eighty

Aged fingers aching, you ask from your dustless desk

That I sit on your lap

“Come here my dear,” your mind tells mine, and I run from the garden to you

My muddy hands press each vowel as soft as you silently wish

Consonants requiring more, you place your hands upon mine

The numbers, my math, needs your correction “17-something…” I say

My age, you know, my dear