In Our Fifties

Our chartreuse-colored love

The ugly chair now, that we don’t wish to sit in or admit brought comfort, respite

Nor will we throw it away

We mourn it in the kitchen like a death
Seemingly forever, while surrounded with casseroles of comfort food brought to us by well-meaning “friends”

We watch it as an epic film of someone else’s life
Sitting in the dark, screaming at the screen, warning of their err, fall from grace, then trauma

We escape it with our wanderlust-filled travels near and far
Photographing nature, plus wild wildlife who in-turn, chase us as we sleep, pseudo-nightmares that wake us at 3am

We do this
You, there, and me, here

Silk and brocade-covered hardwood frames we were and we are
Camaraderie and adventure that was to have brought us peace
Closure to the aching

What color was it initially, before the fade, we ask ourselves over and over

What we know for certain — it was an heirloom love

Before the spit up and sweaty workaday clothes soiled it
Before the pained animals in us tore it to shreds
Before our childhood loneliness, unresolved, relegated us to our corners in our fifties — upper lips bloodied, both of us

Walking attachment disorders, detached by default, from each other
All in one, single day

Eventually, we go to the curb with this shredded chartreuse thing

Pack up and move far away

Looking from the rear-view mirror at what was, we draw others’ ire as we drive too-slow down that road

It is always dusty Summer in our hearts’ mind’s eye

For Father’s, In Advance

For the fathers who found me right where I was at those given times, and right on-time

You, who, with green eyes, blue eyes, and blue-green eyes

Loved me with a love that helped me grow tall, be tall, and stay tall

Thank you for the canned vegetables, the frozen vegetables for-the-first-time-in-a-lifetime, and for the fresh-from-the-farm-and-roadside vegetables

Though some would seriously judge, I needed your yo’ mama jokes, bar room jokes, and first thing in the morning jokes, to remind me to smile

-you showed This firstborn how to be Serious Business, after all-

Thank you forefathers, for being my fathers, for being there then, and though elsewhere now, for being still here nonetheless

Photographic Memory Expedition

One would ask, “Wouldn’t it be lovely?”
Driving down gridded streets that sometimes wound East, then South.
Thinking of shutters painted contrasting colors, or perhaps altogether removed.

One imagines children’s summertime voices.
Carefree and popsicle glee, front sidewalks their territory.
As it should be.

One seems perfect there.
Small and yellow, with miles and miles of welcome.
Surely big enough for whatever weather.

We Are Us 

I needed us to take back
On my behalf
The so much that I’d missed

Some stolen before I had a voice 
Some stolen as I stayed silent 

So toy store visits decorated our days
And I made decisions 
With only we in mind

The Dash Between The Years

This complete life
Has been about nothing
But having it all 
Ripped away and pulled out from under 
Glorious arms and legs
Made stronger
Never getting a free ride from
The orange-striped vehicle of my choice
And it goes on forever
Faster, slower, stop, again


That’s Why

I keep my treasures secret
Please don’t rush me as I seek
I need time to contemplate the gold
In life’s travels to new peaks

I’ll share them soon I promise
I’ll tell you my magic tales
You’ll be enthralled as I am
And re-live firsts through my regales

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