Do you still taste of salt?
You, playing tennis in the hot sun,
and me, in my office working.

Lovers with two separate lives
Until I got tired of being your workhorse.
Still, I miss the taste of your skin.

HIS God;
He preached : we have Satan under our feet.
He preached:  abundant blessings, if you tithe.
His comment from the altar: here is a quarter, call someone who cares.
God said “What was hidden shall be disclosed”
He is arrested for ****** abuse.
his victim, his daughter, condemned from the altar.
She must be a liar; she must be bi-polar;
She must be a *****;
His conviction brings a public apology.
His conduct tears into the heart of his flock.
Where is God in this?
His church moves on repeating the same themes.
She is left alone to find another God.

she travelled the world and brought back
Dolls from faraway lands
Stories told
In her smokey room
Over red tomatoes

The last loon glides
cooing to the warm waters
colored leaves fall.

Nests heave under
Ice drifts on burdened shore
Loons gone south.

Welcome nests rise up
From pond’s melting shore
Loons Home to roust

Loon dives deep
To the water’s weeds
To eat trout.

I am not dead.
Somedays I am angry about their interference in my choice.
My friends and colleagues stare at me and walk by in silence.
My grandson sings “I am a zombie” songs;
My daughter texts  her boyfriend at the dinner table; and
I try not to criticize and enjoy a moment of peace.
I breathe another day.
How did I get here?
To the land of hopelessness;
Daily cases of death by gangs and drive by shootings;
Neglected children with multiple parents and grandparents
And mothers who drink in bars while their children wait in car.
The finger I put in the **** could not steam the flood of
Souls that did not have a safe harbor.
Oh if only I could have shut my mouth and cut out my eyes
Before I learned.
There was another path I could have chosen.