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

Screaming Chicken

The wind will not rest

It’s simply will not

Nor shall the sun go down on your calamity

Unending prayers sent up
I, each eve’
Displacing your sleep

If you wonder when it will stop
When the quiet will find you
Come to me in courage
Screaming on your knees

To say goodbye

Fruitful Be

Our story is not final, Yo
Our shame can take a seat
The last train car, in the back row
As Universe defeats

That rusted coupler is removed
By strength of warriors, we
Pain of ten lifetimes is soothed
Healed now, fruitful be

Wordgirl

It will disappoint you to find, today I have nothing to say to you

Except that I am healing

And I’ve hung a do not disturb sign on my heart, so to that end, beside my bedside — a candle that smells like the sun

But too, our beach and the suntan lotion I smoothed onto your skin well over a year ago

Well into the midnight hour, it burned, and I felt like the irresponsible teen-aged girl I was when we met

Read: Carefree

Good timing, for today is to be an unseasonably warm December day

Without a coat, I’ll work out the difficult feelings while out in the yard, raking one last time before the snow flies

When the last of those magnolia leaves fall later this coming week, I won’t give a damn

I’ll be busy recalling the days when you cared to caution me to please drive safely in the snow

You didn’t want to lose me to accident or injury — you’ve forgotten that, but I forgive you

Silently in my head, I pray these days for your safety too, knowing you never thought much of my prayers

Or my help

Or my written and spoken and demonstrated sentiment

Or my too-small home, where I tried to keep us well

And Christmas is coming

And you won’t be here

And I may mail you a gift and a card, because, after all, I love you more today than I did yesterday, or the day before

My gift and my card would convey this, plus give you one last opportunity before year’s end to ignore again my olive branch

I’m looking forward to the coming decade, despite that it’s looking like I won’t know you then

About your birthdays, I’ll still celebrate them

I woke up at 2am to tell you, I have nothing left to tell you that I’ve not been sure to have already said

A wordgirl gone reluctantly silent with you

Accept that I am healing

Said And Done


I speak for the masses
The sides of me inside of me
The arrested phases that do not know how to grow
The girl who grew, too tall too soon

Somewhere in there, a woman walks
Head held high, chin and forehead gently jutted
To the sun, she says
And she does

She does love
To do, to be

She questions me
To lead in love

That gives me pause
First steals my breath, then intuits me to question her back

What of the times you sought to love, to befriend
To be a friend, although in need?
They knew nothing of love!
Friendship foreign to them, they offered an attack
An inevitable abandonment

This is life, and you cannot opt out
You cannot, too, jump ship
You cannot not love, friend
She says to me

She strides onward
To the sun

Blackbird

I’ll never trust your eyes
Always flashing early, often
Happy speaking lies against a good, good heart

I trust the strangers
Never needing to have seen
Somehow know the truth of me

I trust the front-yard flowers, too
Sometimes August-blooming poppies
Just for me, in June instead

This Cup

I’m learning how to cry in deep despair and pour my blessed hot coffee at the very same time

Pain and gratitude in the same cup, indeed

I’m becoming better at praying goodness for others at my broken heart’s expense

Love and sacrifice from the same vein, it frees

I’m deciding to live with the dread of the box I was put into and with hope that I’ll one day be free

Abuse and healing in the same lifetime, glory

Warrior, Defender

What is this we say
Words have power?
To send them out as little soldiers
Do we?
Dressed in armor plus tiny swords
Or in humility, altogether naked
Regardless revealing our hearts

When with any thought
Words can heal?
To speak them forth as mighty ministers
Ought I?
What bidding do I demand of them
Or in vulnerability, lowly ask
No matter what I stand to lose