Pieces
This time of anticipation
has me already missing those little things
which I no longer shall receive.
The crate of grapefruit and oranges.
The ground whole grain grits.
The cornmeal both fine and coarse,
yellow and white, whole germ and milled,
refrigerated, frozen, given away,
rarely cooked.
But when it was, an honor sent.
The curried pear relish.
The bon voyage gift.
Tokens marking
me as a daughter
Not Knowing
Not knowing is the best way know.
My fingers flow so smoothly, typing–
spacing
jumping
around, around and soothing.
Gingrich won in South Carolina — is this a new kind of dance?
The sound bites are not on message.
heaven
is her name, little pageant girl
behind which…
everyone sees these youngest girls shaking their booties
(please reference toddlers and tiaras. TLC)
Imagine, fairy tales and Walmart dazzle
the ultimate mirror,
(
where’s Oscar when we need him?
“we are best friends, the same person…”
she is a mini me. crying,
I don’t want to do this any more, or
a daughter who didn’t want highlights,
saying no.
to no avail.
No News News,
Daddy’s had a stroke,
One day from Iowa
and how the cycle repeats itself
discussing what has been discussed.
now a dog,
and now some beans
and now an opposition reconciled.
There and Not Quite
Surfing outside the global ritual
here typing
Some First Letters
dad writes last week
this is a new time counter
writing
a few letters
singing the blues,
nobody knows…no body knows,
you are right
dad.
But we’re listening,
blues
blues
your singing’ the blues
inspired me
Musings Christmas Eve 2012
Birds Fly Against The Rain
in Wisconsin
on the porch,
another storm.
[singlepic id=197 w=1410 h=360 float=]
Looney Lake Storm
Daily Musings
The will to act is seen
dispersed in stacks of things,
the inside feelings creeping out
in action paused,
a battle awaits the vanquishing.
In sleep I venture once again
east of third and north of south,
where houses to fix can still be found,
though rough streets ride the peripheries.
Inside my rooms aside the shore.
Some boxes packed.
Do I stay?
Stop.
But this is what I do,
though chances are few to find.
A neat and tidy room spars, emerges and recedes.