Real Live

What man, after all, needs to glance up from bed and find gauze curtains with crochet flowers blocking the morning light

When is there any right time to feel the frustration of taking to task offspring, not his own

Why, I ask, would he ask for the bounty of trouble, help, and honest beauty She brings to the table, when there’s plenty of “elseness” on his plate

Who’d wish for a real-live helpmate when the workshed walls are already perfectly papered with such willing hands

Where is there any avenue he’d daydream for a walk, anyway

Oh, love

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

Kinetic

We look ahead at sixty now
The gander, grace-filled
The graceful goose
Silvery fire, calm
Wondrous!

So we wait and keep walking
Flying, when we’re able
But never again bewildered
If we would not be this
We could not be that

Original thought credit: Ms. Joni Mitchell; “Both Sides Now”

Only

When love won’t leave you
And asks, “Why should I?”
All audacious and unapologetic and such
Promising glow
Yet demanding descent into grey
Leave behnd the toxic whirr
Walk away from someday

Trick

I see the trajectory

By the time this is over

Your hands will scribble of your past in unrecognizable caricatures

Your ink will run dry

Only I’ll have the proof of you

And but for my forethought, but for my need

But for my suffering walk

It’s clear you’d have been a vapor

Shoulder

It’s just my shoulder

There’s nothing inherently beautiful or strong, tempting or freeing

Cool or calm about it, is there?

It’s just an offer

There’re billions of others to stand square with, befriend or lean on

Swoon over or serve with, aren’t there?