In the evening, I sat out, well beyond 8:58

The front porch shadows shielded me 

That I might pretend

My bedtime hadn’t come and gone

The smile in my telephone-voice wasn’t masking a mom’s tortured heart 

Acceptance would come and those few miles away, would prove okay, someday

Hood ornaments on passing trucks did in no way devastate

This wasn’t the calm before the storm

The temperature wouldn’t dare drop, degree by degree, with each sip of my sleepy-time tea 

The gardens weren’t soon going to hell

My choice to survive hadn’t offended my God

Tomorrow, no one would know 


For the first time since the first time, I was presumptive
Those crickets!
Their song for me
Our mutual love of warm summer nights … and the reedy mid-day marsh….

For the second time since the first time, I learned
They were just crickets … being crickets
They chirp, they do not sing
They survive, they do not love


What to do
When love’s thrown at you with far, far, far less passion
Far less intent, than graffiti at a cinder block wall

Then come the wolves
One is all it takes to take you down, down, way, way down
To take your will, and leave you still with skin stone cold


Isn’t it enough to send you
The notion
The gall
The balls of it all

What white coat ought you report to 
‘Twas witchcraft
‘Twas lies
‘Twas dust in your eyes

All the hell you put yourself through
To know life
To thrive
To More Than Survive