no longer  careens
along the fringes  of life
this gypsy soul ‘s
rampant  
  nomadic  urges  
long since quelled
I've  roamed
so many hills and dales
crossed oceans and
floral seas
yet
here  I  remain  
serenely  sunlit
  by your dancing
sky blue eyes
as
our love syncs
deeper into  
the loving folds of time
only the bitter promise  of death  
will  part
our paths

dreams
suddenly contained
your  presence
the other night
you hadn't really been there
for years
our time is over
I had to say
to your sad face
it’s not that I don’t
miss us
my life is so different
it just went
another way

on
this ramble scramble
hillside
aka
as our front yard
fill it full of
Kentucky wild onions
strewn through
grass buds  
and funky mushrooms
snow’s all gone
puddles dry
for now
freckle me up
pretty please
infuse
 some
serious sunshine
into this
winter  wearied  
brow

my aching mind
races
through the places
I have
lived
from young  girl
new wife
baby in life
am I doing this right
these question  burned holes in my
head
early widow
murdered mate
fear and loss  
stomped me like a
a buffalo
start a  chapter anew
didn't know what to do
just keep head up
look for the light
somehow it will be alright
another partner
from school bus days
makes his way into
my heart
more love
scary accident
crushes my body
just for awhile
daughter marries
changes change again
sometimes
at night
the pretty lights
keep me
Awake

swirl  up
deep piles
of blinding snow
your bones  and skin
stockpile  memories of
winters past
you use
to  get warmer
so much
quicker
go ahead
take  that little  nip
  of  liquor
to take the edge off
puffs of icy
chills
and  porch step spills
as  slick spots
catch   tensed boot
soles  
  you see white  
up close and personal
not quite
the  sweet  winter treat  
you envisioned
partaking
in

They ran past me
at breakneck speed
to capture
those  
last minute
trinkets
of love
I never cared
much for anyway
until  I no longer  
had them
to look
forward
to

for the sky
limbs  held high
swirling  sunset  
draped like a  cape
  about  rigid shoulders
finally
that   velveteen  night
sprinkled  with  ghost stars
hides your  frozen frame    
for a few tame
hours
until  the haze
of morning
streaked
with  a tiny   tease
of  sunlight
highlights
your barren offering
Spring  seems so
far away
you stand firm
against
the naked elements
drawing
graceful patience
from
age old roots
in the slumbering soil
raising hopes
sky high
for an early
vernal equinox

down the hill
over the train tracks
through the  abandoned
farmer's market
parking lot
past  last fall's  crispy
refugees
follow the stark tree lines
right up to
those normally plain
windows
glimmering   golden
   like stained glass
with sunrise
painting every pane
on  God's house
  on the hill

click by
the end of this year
is even closer at hand
not yet down for the count
I hold onto these
last specks of time
because they  belong
to my life
with you
the start of the new year
takes
you  farther away
than ever

my spatula
conducts  an
imaginary orchestra
carols
dance through
my hands
suddenly
Christmas past  
floods
my eyes  
like a sharp jab
with
a   roast fork
memories
rip apart  
these
hastily mended  seams
I stand there
in tears
after my
triumphant
orchestral
debut.

A Hound’s Garden  
The Citrus Saga

Part One: Cursed

The blossoms were sweetly fragrant
belying their sour harvest
the tree named Meyer bore a dulcet legacy
doomed
to wither  in a corner
under the sly vigilance of a young hound.


Part Two: Salvation

It arrived in a plain brown box
glossy leaves without flowers
a solitary green satsuma
flailing in the breeze
transformed under the sleepy gaze
of a furry connoisseur
whose daily test sniff promised
a favorite delicacy’s imminent
arrival.

Part Three: Thankful Harvest

Peeled glory
boasted
  succulent slices
of tangerine heaven
just barely enough for one mouth
to savor.

Part Four:  Grim Reaper

Growing season came again
fragrant   blossoms erupted
sweet branches
  studded with   unripe fruit  
stood proudly in the Texas sunlight
when like a thief in the night
every unborn tangerine
was gone one early morn
sad faces saw the end
of a Satsuma riddled era.

Part 5: Fare Thee Well

Years have passed
Since the hound’s youthful
indiscretions
her sight long gone  
nose not as sharp
the tangerine tree
belongs
to someone else
those fruitful bounties
live only in the dreams
of a graying dog.

My heart scans
for a familiar face
through throngs
of strangers
as they scatter
pell mell
around me
eager shoppers
casing brightly lit
  sale stuffed store fronts
while seduced
by the siren song of fresh coffee  
coupled  with
sticky sweet  cinnamon buns
suddenly
the bitter fact
swallows  me
whole again
you no longer reside
anywhere
outside
of  my dreams

Every year
the same deal
treats
obtained too early
under the
seasonally seductive
store lights  
nestled  next
to  the fake fall foliage
become mysteriously
rerouted  
from their final destination
as intense inspections
conducted
under the guise of
quality control
these  pilfered  provisions
perform a vanishing act
visions of  sad
costumed tots
at the  doorway
with empty bags
hurry a return visit
for rapid  replacements
tragedy narrowly
averted
once
   again

swirly twirls
roll rough shod
over
dead yards
half naked trees
shake what mamma nature
gave them
orphaned leaves
cling desperately
to
  lifeline branches
frustrated
by   frenzied spasms
stripped down  to  the last
vibrant vestiges
of  Autumn's
woefully weakened
grasp
as winter's stealthy
approach
is  announced

All Hallows Eve  
is history
the saloon girl and her cowboy
a crumpled heap  
on bedroom chairs
pictures all shared
ghouls , ghosts
zombies ,zoo life
tiny  princesses  
alien  invasion  
through  the fake  fog
and chainsaw screeches
candy from strangers
never tasted
so sweet

you are the color
of my gypsy soul
tiny letters
on the bottom of a tube
I can no longer see
without bifocal assistance
sweetly simple
smooth wax motion
over my pucker
that shapely stick
helps redraw
my daily destiny
like bees to honey
my man  
kisses and tells
you look like
a million bucks
baby

teased
taunted
terrorized
tormented
into
mouth melting sin
hell's fire
  hastens my tongue
as it becomes
a slippery slide to
depravity
fistfuls meant
for shared  reverie  
become  resident hostages
in my domain
as sole proprietor
of this *****
chemical high
I laugh
at pale  attempts  
to fool me  
with sweet haloed
  innocence
no paltry  impostor
stands a chance
only the real deal  
sways
my  greedy  favor.

almost
full moon face
smilingly
rests on a comfy shelf cloud
waning daylight hours
blanket  
the rich dip dyed purple dusk  
spreading it’s favor
seamlessly  into
a star strewn
night sky