Glorious update!! ---Soul Survivor's Dad had the surgery after all and miraculously came through it amazingly well!

Always enjoyed crossing bridges
Looking down to see what
divided the land so

I hoped to see rivers
their flow
I like the waters to be on the go

Sometimes there were
railroad tracks
Sometimes trains with horns blowing back

Then there were trees
sometimes
swishing in the breeze

I loved the bridges
connecting
the Florida Keys

And Ponchatrain
going on endlessly
or so it seemed to me

Never been to Brooklyn
no I didn't buy a bridge
I have a picture of it taped upon my fridge

I crossed the Mississippi on bridges that were high and sometime low
One bridge fell into the river and it's not there anymore

Too bad HP has no picture avatars
I have pictures of the pillars
Still reminding me and Willard

Some days I want to be a wild horse
or a gypsy wild and free
Don't put any fence around me
Who would want to tame this
Heart of wild
I just want to be somewhere
Anywhere just not confined

Other days I want to build a house
Build me a home
Build my life around my kids and spouse
Sometimes I can follow the direction of the reins
Even if they do feel like chains
I want to give my all
I am just so scared to answer the call

It seems I want to have my cake
and to eat it too
Its like I have double lives  ~ What am I to do
I want my freedom and I want his time
Cannot divulge all the darkness in my mind
There is beauty in imperfection
and order in the unruliness
I am a walking contradiction
Yes I'm somewhat of a mess
Words rhythm and movement are what I live for
and I can sometimes give up the control
I do what feels right to me
Cause there's a gypsy living in my soul

The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.

She is used to this sort of thing.

Her blacks crackle and drag.


Sylvia Plath

tough night, and  I know the trees grow
not for me always, aren't always waiting around the
left corner of the orchard in blooming blossoms
all with fertile flowered seriousness and sudden
speck the wind with fragrance when i decide to
roam under lowest  limbs again combing my hair
bristling my fiber
just I assume they have recollections of me  once
again a day a night I spent weeping
beauty a being not leaving planted solid
touched their bark their leaves saw the underside
the veins the sap flowing for everything
knowing when I returned
one day hence whenever
I needed to again
feel connected to this orb this streak
of  green the yellow sun the fleeting white
unassuming clouds
an intuition brought by hormones
or callous winds and rainfall and tears like rain like sleet
a mad week a day nothing but the trees can I relate to
on the left side of the orchard
they stand still and
will always be there for me
tall and unassailably calm and
pretty

~~~

The poet holds her pen
Overwhelmed by the backlog
She writes of other things


Senryu
SøułSurvivør
(C) 7/7/2017