Time passage

A thought or two thousand swirl into the vortex

images from yesterday return to view unexpectedly

and I laugh as the train derails into itself

suspended between years and minutes

as a song plays somewhere within the walls

and I move about the lines of linen

observing the instance of a bird who decorates

with bathroom love on the clean sheets

I laugh and shake my head

silly universe I think I said

aloud to the cloud who lingered

curtailing the sun and its warmth

I shook it out.

James sings with his baby face and the cat who is no longer stares

and I feel the sadness for a moment at the passing

yet know I too someday shall pass that way,

and its okay as my mind carries on

its endless parade of images and songs

I sing along for a moment and change the channel

to lighter fare

wondering why I had gone there

and summer days when twelve

as the islands filled the evening with the scent

of campfires and a marriage at twelve

to the boy down the path,

wondering where he is now

and Jack and Diane had played

and life was easy and carefree

and time was just something we knew

as something to note,

to come in to sleep and eat

the rest up to us to pursue

in endless games and swimming with snakes

that slipped in cracks in the rocks.

Perhaps it was the laundry, as I traipsed about

toes uncovered I always watch for moving things

and the wind that blew the sheet into my face

where I saw the smudged gift

that took me back in the mind machine of time

for a small fee of a smile

and a tune in my head

that won’t quite stop.

Rise from shadows

We linger on the side

Of this life that rushes by,

So much forgotten as it keeps moving

With or without us

We must stop and respect

All that has been 

Through days that slip into shadow

Waiting on the full of the moon

To guide with light

As we step out from the side

And become one with it all.

We learn and honor

Stories of those who fought

While life kept on far away

We had never touched the sorrow

We had not felt the scent of the fire rising

As lands crumbled below the skies

We laughed in yards and lived our minutes


Today we raise flags and remember the basic rule,

With respect and love for the wounded and often forgotten

That there should be every day set aside

To simply say a gentle thank you

For what I have now,

You have suffered

With memories of atrocities and violence,

And I of soft skin who never walked in your large shoes

Never tread the blood soaked soil of foreign lands,

Who remembers today

As we rise from the mist,

Strong sentinels who linger in beauty

Touching our senses

With the impermanence of this world,

As crumbling stones remain like a burial mound,

We say a prayer for healing

We salute the sacrifices

We humbly give thanks.

The trouble with yesterday

We watched the screen while we lived the tale

Cinderella stories of broken hearts unlike the tried and true

as we crept on eggshells through the days that made

the growing bones and curves blossoming

how we still felt incomplete.

We thought we had the answers

learned from source of glamorous mags

and photos of how it should be

that in the end conflicted with how it was.

We skipped in darkened corners,

hidden kisses that thrilled the soul

from tepid boys who practiced first

on arms and pillows

and blushing we looked away perhaps in fear

of the feelings rising

and the need to be a part of this whole.

Memories of makeup on shelves

as we peruse the lipstick and pink powder colors

trying to be better than we felt on the inside

and we lifted the cologne and inhaled the scent

of the beautiful boy who bumped us in fast paced hallways

yet lingered just a second too long

and the Polo heady in our heads as we sat dreaming

through social studies of prince charming

and being asked to the ball,

as the shrill bell rings reminding us to move along

we exit heavy doors and walk into the maelstrom

as against the grey cold lockers, he’s kissing her

like a known lover

and we feel the mascara that we shouldn’t have on

fall in black raindrops

as the wallflower wilts

under the memories of yesterday once more.

There were no party dresses for the shy

no words of true love for the needy soul,

just the hopeless feeling that life would always be

this dark and lonely place

and I wonder now where that girl has gone

as she stands makeup free yet beautiful within,

where has she gone, that shy tired girl

who dreamed for the movie as a child

and now lives the world of the belle of her ball today.

Do our minds twist and distort the reality,

do we grow stronger through the acts of the life play

and though the Polo brings a smile

it is in sweetness and a hint of laughter….

where are you now Oh Quarterback God?

Do you think of those days in fondness or despair…

but then again

that part of me no longer cares

for I am whole


and more than enough

living this life of my making.