you traveled
to the other coast
hungry for adventure
a break
from the  daily grind
revisit a page
from the family history
a chance  to see
another
way of life
hope this  journey
pleases
your wanderlust
my girl
the path  you take
back here  to me
will be fraught with
that same old
everyday
reality

town
all   shook   up
only way
to sparkle today
in this gray haze
flurry flurry
what's your hurry
winter will to trap us
in a hot cocoa
cup
soon enough

filled with ache
sorrow seeps into
hollow places
sadness
sets up camp
for an indefinite
spell

Wispy blossoms
against the cerulean sky
voracious for sunlight
even rooted in mud
bodacious buds
surrounded by concrete
will not be subdued
they remain
perfectly poised
for ritual splendor.

late  one November day
a dog eared page
from another  chapter
came alive
while crisp leaves  
swirled  and twirled
love
burst in
unannounced
so amazed
illuminated
fascinated
intrigued
complex
simple
the short list
fulfilled
can't catch my breath
afraid
brave
alive
pleased
impatient
out of my hands ,
into my  very core-
Welcome.

You’ve been gone
for so long now
yet every ripple
reels you back in
I feel your dreams
die inside me
all over again

I like about
July
are multitudes of pink mimosa trees
on countless country
roads
with orange day lilies
running rampantly
along stranger’s driveways
air thick from
smoky spent fireworks
trigger thoughts
of sad
goodbyes
said way too soon

Her life
flashes through my mind
the love clings
to  my heart
goodbye
minutes away
release
relief
regret
all tangible
grief soaked lines
savage my face
for a hound  girl who's
stubborn  grace
leaves this world today

I wake up everyday
my eyes riveted
to the ceiling
as rainbow flecks
radiate from crystals
that reside in the middle
of the uppermost window

this bedroom marked “private”
on the door
has meant twenty-four months
complete control
freedom to design
every detail, every texture, every nuance
Handpicked

A  vivid palette
splashed onto every square foot
hoping to recapture
life’s intense force
while  it  drowns out  
nagging shadows
threatening to swallow
My space

Italian ceramic mask- topped sconces
flanking the empty space
the mosaic mirror
I’m still learning to make
the gilded cream vanity
fit for a princess
still Waits

highlighted memories
fill dusty shelves and cling to walls
called Home now

my queen size bed use to sit quietly
in my guest room
rarely disturbed
now it harbors
my   dreams and fears
afloat on a sea of defiantly feminine
pillows and blankets

an eclectic mix of Me
comes out of every nook and cranny
while my inner sanctum takes shape.

Gently shake
that sauce
if you
have a care
the ceiling
needs no spice
the curtains
look so nice
when they are
devoid of flavor.

from
your   cage of fleshly endeavors  
closed so many doors
in my face
our future  dissolved
into nothingness  
soggy eyes  blinded my
emergency exit
this heart shattered
buckling knees
could barely move
my leaden feet
managed to find
a precariously placed
cement gray
stepping stone
promising  only
  unfathomable desolation
into unknown destinations
   unsolved  mysteries  
editing  personal histories
who what  why
riddle psyche and soul  
onto  a continuous
loop

brown leaf
whirls  along
the  road
disturbed
by golf cart wheels
heads turn
just long enough
to register
it was green
once

raw
green beans
this past afternoon  
brought back
my Oma
full white apron on
in  the kitchen
one summer  
in Germany
decades ago
window wide open
to the garden
sitting at the table
busily breaking them up
together
for her delicious vegetable soup  
I'm  helping ,I'm helping
I said as  they broke
in my little fingers
her soup
a mere  memory
as she  stopped making it
   a lifetime ago

no longer relevant
noisily devoured  
by a gaping hole
stuffed to capacity
then shoveled
into a bin
marked for permanent exile
an anonymous
paper trail
that use to lead
to my life.

Long forgotten stash

of flavor bursts

await my
restless  grasp

sugar jewels
cosseted from
bumpy pavement
elusive bag
emerges unscathed
by layers
of fresh found
knowledge.

This Summer’s
dulcet legacy
ground
down to a saucy
red puree
to keep around
just a little longer
than the strawberry
June  full moon
a last hurrah  of local berries
little paler than the first batch
savored in the Spring
then again
when the apples are harvested
the reminder of your glory days
will linger
like a long lost lover's
last kiss

this  Hell
of a  life lived
not so long ago
in the boxing
of articles
you may still need
some day
the cycle  will repeat  
as the dust is forming
today
is nearly yesterday.

constantly rehashed
long thread spun out
every chance
chokes
Over
And  
Over
Again
rewind button
never sticks
tape
never breaks
lassoed memories
drug in kicking
and screaming
allegations  
insinuations
half-truths
blows the lid off  
feigned civility
while anger
simmers savagely
under
pursed lips

afternoon
under heavy laden
branches
ladders kept steady
with loving hands
watchful eyes
on
little helpers
filling baskets
with only the ripest
of fruits
too sour for nibbling
just perfect
for jelly jars
and visions
of sugar plums
spread  on fresh baked bread

They assured me
the 15 inch blunt
fingerprint- free knife
was wielded
with the stealth element
of surprise
in the midst of a normal
Sunday afternoon
behind a closed office door
he  never  knew
what happened
just dropped down  
and died
my normal world
replaced by
a  true life  horror tale
my  knees
sparred  with gravity
while this   anvil of sadness  
squashed my heart  
wobbling  legs drove  me
mercilessly to  his
  serene good bye face
on a rolling table
with a sheet
up to
     his neck.

drizzles down
on
still crackly  leaves
never raked up
the thirsty  ground
drinks
pushes
mushy mud
globs
everywhere
not cold
not warm
just
wet air
hits those Christmas lights
they still  manage
to shine
blissfully bright

The  dark corners
of my nights
undulate  into days
swallow  me whole
even the starkest rays
won’t light my path
nestled
between
my pillows
a creature
  born of  fear
coupled with
unvarnished reality  
preys upon
my sleeping form
to pop  
out of my mouth
Hellbent and
voracious
for my
bleeding soul.

those  fruits
always  boasted
such sweet  promises  
every summer 
 they  arrived
at the fruit stand
  in town
wrapped in foreign writing
my dreamy eyed little girl
nibbled them  
with red stained lips
she  asked
her  gramps
one summer afternoon
if  they could plant
their own  cherry tree
so he took her  to a spot
and together they did plot
to  raise cherries by
the driveway
the pits  took hold
in the  rich  soil
as  they both thrived
tall and strong
it  littered
the front
of her grandparent's  house
with it's delicious bounty
we  stood  under the tree
every summer  
we could come
as they  rained down
upon us
still going strong
three decades later
although
we have not
been around
for a great long while
to delight in
this 
 sweet
red legacy

forward
I have to feel
  this moment
as it throbs  with life
cannot  take  
a step or two back
without colliding
full throttle
into  a sad void  
of hazy days gone by.

still binds me  
to your love
frayed  
but never
completely
torn

I use to read mysteries
with such  glee
Nancy Drew always
found the clues  
whodunits
wrapped up
in x amount of pages
with wailing police sirens
hauling
some miscreant off
just before that  last page is turned
whereas my story’s end
is still
Nowhere
in plain sight.

Really
the longer you live
the more you shift between
the what is and what was
sometimes the transitions
are smoother than others
today I found myself
within a few layers
of my former life
interwoven
with my current experience
always a bittersweet mixture
somewhere half way
between gratefulness
with a touch of regret
and a modicum of relief
that so many frayed edges
were smoothed enough
to make it all stay together
for the most part
not sure where tomorrow is going
but right here, right now
just hanging in there
and not sure
how long the thread
is…

but not  rotten
summer's
last ambassadors
drip  off my lips  
glad my shirt
  is dark
and these  stains
won't really matter

Riding lawn mower
**** trimmers
sit idly in the repair shop
again
this Spring
while sweet sunshine
soaks in the leaky skies
crazy growing grass
tall enough  
for our  Lily cat
to  reprise her
daily
king of the jungle
role
wearing
a dandelion crown.

sanctuary
so far removed
from daily chaos
in a dimly lit atmosphere
occasionally punctuated
with  bright faces
laden down with
movable feasts
our eventual escape
finally came into  view
a glimmer of  hope
slid in  next to us
tipping fortune’s favor  
onto our plates.