crinkle in the sky
a thunderous ROAR

scary fascinating lightening
blinding the eye

rolling in off the sea
a tempest from afar

the spellbinding cradle
of natures awe.

to smile is a boon
a physical breakthrough
-to how you feel

She never ever let us meet him
Never told us his full name
We only learned it when she shared
the photo of a document in jest
Where he adopted our Grand dog
And became her official Dad.

She asked if we would dog-sit Bella
While they took a Vegas break.
I know they are going to get married
And we’ll be left here with the dog.

There will be no celebration-
He’ll wait in the car while she comes in
To drop off Bella and rush back out
Precluding any conversation
Or questions about the trip.

That scene will play it’s second act
When they come to get the dog.
Him in the car and her a rush.

I’ll check her hand - is there a ring -
Not sure she’d ever even wear one.
I’ll have to call her father for the news
If I want to know her status.

This is the way I live my life
Shut completely out of hers.
The lovely dog our only tie
I pray that Bella never dies.
ljm

I dreamed my way here
I’ve had my cringe moments
I feel pressure, I lose perspective
I’ve wholeheartedly failed
I misspeak, underthink, overreact
I try to do the right thing
the right thing isn’t always clear
I’ve tried to hold on
I’ve let go with grace
I’ve charged ahead
I’ve stepped aside
I self-sabotage, then try to do better
I’ve self-consciously retreated
I’ve stood up for others
I’ve backed down and apologized
I’ve rinsed and repeated
I’m a chameleon, but I’ve never been perfect
I’ve under-reacted to challenges
I’ve overreacted to the ordinary
I devalue likeability
I indulge the language of play
I share my human experience
I don’t know what else to say.

I am
alright

…tonight

like I was
okay

…today

as for
tomorrow

…who knows
the sorrow

…

but hey

you carry old baggage in straight suitcases
full of contrition’s contractions, each rosary bead spent
dragging sorrowful daggers of spite
pity self-pity’s pity, no others or places

killing softly with words, not deeds
psychic murders in poesy lines
each keystroke a slasher’s razor bleeds
disregarding tender hearts and rhyme

history’s ink well spill on your page
born-out to suffer blue outrage
sworn blind with fear of life’s gift
unwilling grace to heal this rift

-cec