Like an alien in a spotlight
With her magnifying glasses on
My mother as she worked, up all night
Did invisible weaving till dawn

I would watch her when I couldn’t sleep
Honing in on that hole in the suit
Intently, her concentration deep
Weaving tiny threads enlarged like jute

In other-worldly light she labored
I was afraid she’d lose her eyesight
Watching her focus never wavered
Her face all aglow in the lamplight

Invisible weaving, I inquired
How tediously she plied her craft
Worked for the money that she required
Made the warp and weft of fabric last

Reconstruction, undetectable
No more burn, or tear, or fabric blight
Weaving magic so incredible
Its wound now perfect by morning’s light

She taught me much that I'm still making
From her life that now I'm grieving
Sewing, crocheting and great baking
But never invisible weaving

The picture of her life that mattered
I now see how she toiled so finely
And that the wrinkles in the fabric
Of my own life splayed out so blindly

The vision of my eyes bedazzled
Incandescent, her face in the beam
Unaware how her mind unraveled
As depression stole her ev'ry dream

The threads of DNA defining
Who I’ve become I'm now believing
My mother’s hand in that designing
Of my own Invisible Weaving

What can I say about your charm and grace?

Nothing that'll hold a candle to the glow of you

I can just close my eyes and see your face

The beauty of your eyes still pierces me clean through



The sparkle thrown and the curve of lid

Attract me like a moth to flame

Deep in my heart this love I’ve hid

Love of your laugh, your soul, your frame



The cheeks I bite; the lips I kiss…

Your kisses I’ll drink to quench this thirst

I sing your praises, please never dismiss

This ***** boy, because I loved you first



And forward we’ll march through this torrent of time

Wandering together on our common quest

And through these hard moments, which lately begrime,

We’ll hurtle directly and finish this test



I see the love and sadness in your eyes

The love, I’ll cling tight to, the sadness, arrest

You are mine...       ...and I am all yours

This journey can’t break us, for our love is best

When the day was dying
I was back to the market.

The last time I was there
haggled with her over the price.

She wanted to sell high
I wanted to buy low.

You win she said at last
I bought high
but have to sell low.

I knew she was lying.

This time she wasn't there.

Someone said
her man had left for another woman
and she hadn't since been seen.

The deepening evening hung like a dagger of pain.

She was never good at bargain.

Undress me
with your eyes.
Whisper love
into my ears.
Let go of your fears.
Touch my soul with
all your loving heart.
Cross my ocean.
Put it in motion.
Share your passion
of pure devotion.
Look into my eyes
and feel the wamth
of the sun
in brightest blue sky.

Grandson unlike most of humanity
enjoys the sound of my singing
so together we make up songs.
He at ten weeks with green eyes,
jug ears and the occasional goofy smile
is an honest audience though a toothless critic
who frowns upon hard consonants
but relishes lengthy vowels:

        la la-la la la-la la, la la-la la
        la! la! la la-la
        ooo ooobie  
        ooo!
        be doobie doo
        green eyes, green eyes, green eyes, green,
        green eyes, green eyes, green eyes, green…

Who needs radio? I compose, he edits,
new melodies fill the room,
perhaps only we two can understand.
Don’t listen.