When my daughter is sad
she makes  cupcakes
the series of taste tests add up to twelve
and she is diligent.
I don't mind,
all the necessary food groups
are there for her
and the crumbs will do fine for me.

cuneiform script
marks cut into a stone slab
history today

Irony is not believing your mirror
or alternatively
sensibility at its finest
(not my line but I will add it – it fits)
bald head, wrinkles, skeptical eyes
are just the outside.
quietly, privily, absolutely
the inner me still canters along
well, not canter really,
just a steady trot
with frequent pauses for
let’s call it reflection.
trouble is,
as some of us know
and ruefully acknowledge,
time speeds up,
birthdays come so quickly now
last year’s card is still on the shelf
and the envelope too
If someone makes a time machine
I will volunteer
to see if it works

There is a train in my head
that shunts from ear to ear
whistling at intervals,
sometimes the train diver
goes high to the top of my skull
and my ears pop.
I was thinking that there
should be clouds this high
I haven't seen any yet.
I haven't seen any eagles either.
Maybe my skull is in the back country
where nothing grows and nothing lives
I will get another train tomorrow
and will bring my own lunch

Bare feet on the sand in summer
running hard over the hot bits
to get to the water quickly
the freedom from concrete

climb over the fence after dark
stifled laughter private frissons
skinny dipping a rite of passage
the freedom to be naked

laughter and the camaraderie
of long time association
friends and confidantes
the freedom to be happy

divisions fixed by polarities
religious racial ethnic and economic
still absolute rights for all
the freedom of the first amendment

but still
not for a woman’s right  to her body
not for the terminally ill to die
not for political asylum
not for driving while black
not for gay and LBGT
not for equal rights to marry
but yet and still
the freedom to vote for change

"







"

numerology
eleven followers now
an awkward number