everybody
leaves me
&
i
am left smelling their
clothes

Chautauqua I
lying in a field of tan the sun hits my back
I see a shadow of me or am I merely the shadow in this scene
The wind inhales and exhales
breathing at its own pace I can feel its calmness
Nature's unorderliness does have its own sense of pattern
the blades of straw yield to the wind without any hint of defiance
I am the only one that stands apart
out of defiance I decide not to bend
under all the straw hides the mud
makes me aware of
how wet the ground is under my boney ****
Chautauqua II
stopping to smoke a cigarette
I notice the vast difference in landscape
from the northern and southern views
the heat of the sun requires i take off my coat
and I allow
the wind to control the change in temperature
nature constantly surprises different beats various patterns
tiny minds
always try to find
sense in randomness
Chautauqua III
I, too, am on a chautauqua of some sort
this journey a quest for fulfillment
many seek it few obtain it
the given clues are false society's road markers
get me lost in wrong directions
the drummer
who marches out of step
not following the same beat
is blamed
no one ever thinks
to find fault with the beat itself
lying in a field of tan I begin to find my way

I like Stephen King
Not for his plot twists of horror
But for how he notices the very real
Human tics
And ideosyncrasies that every posess
Making us unique
Just like everyone else
He would notice
Let's say, something like;
The bored housewife
Sitting at her kitchen table
Drinking coffee with one hand
And hitting on a joint with the other
Like she's reciting rosary
To E.L.O.'s  "Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, don't bring me down,Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, don't bring me down, Bruce, Don't bring me down, , no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no. no.
Nooo-oooooh-oh
(I tell you once more before I get off the floor don't bring me down)
Bruce...

His next sentence jolts us
The bored housewife's ceiling
Would then fall down
Crashing down
On top of her
Smashing her skull
Buried under drywall and brick
Gotta love the details

But afterwards
Will the once bored housewife
(As well as you and I and Stephen King?)
Be given a test?

What Did You See?
What Did You Learn?
What Did You Do?

Did You Get It??

Will we need to sharpen number two pencils?
A mortalist?

We live here but once
Stephen King
Bored housewives
You and me

My son Colton Ross Barrera
has been missing since Sept. 26, 2008.
I bet you can imagine how many times
I have typed that sentence...
I am finally reaching out to another mom,
perhaps for my own sanity...
I have had so many ppl say to me,
"oh Lynda, I am so sorry, I just can't imagine what you are going through"
as I would never have been able to imagine all this myself.
I had a slight interest in missing person cases in the past
but it was just another news story in my mind
and the ppl weren't real,
not until it hit home
and it was MY son that went missing...
I have been angry at God
and I have gone through all the stages of grief
and still go back and forth on those steps.
I remember when he 1st went missing
I made 50-75 phone calls a day.
now the phone is quiet
and there is no one left to call.
The police have put his file in a folder
and have labeled him,
not as handsome,
or quirky
or intelligent,
but he is stamped
with the label of COLD CASE.
I quit going to church
because I felt that if anyone knew where my son was,
they would tell me
and how could God be so cruel
and withhold such vital information from me?
I almost envy people that know
when where and how their child passed away
because they have a tiny piece of real estate to go to
and leave flowers
and have closure,
but I am also relieved
that not having a gravestone
at a cemetery plot to visit
still gives me hope that he is still alive.
In this modern day of internet,
I have his facebook account page
to look at
pictures of him
in which he never ages
and words written by him
which I wish I would have read
long before he went missing.
Time on a calendar
is marked
according to B.C. and A.D.
due to the life and death of Jesus.
I mark occasions
by how old Colton was at any given time--
"That re-run of Catdog came out in 2001? Colton was 11"
It is so bitter sweet
to watch Colton's younger brother grow up
and do some of the same mannerisms
as he did at that age.
My older son's have placed blame
and anger on me
and in some ways,
rightly so,
at my lack pf parenting
and causing their brother to go missing
and that has put a big chasm
in our relationship.
I suppose unless publishers
ever come out with a
"How to handle it when your child disappears and just seems to fall off the face of the planet, for dummies" book,
I will rely on the support
and guidance of other's who are traveling down this path with me.

when Colton was a wee one
and his brothers got 4 more french fries on their plate than he did
or a really cool toy for their birthday that he wanted
or some other perceived injustice
he would yell at the top of his lungs, "Mom! That's TOO fair! That is just TOOOOO fair!!!!"

sitting in heavy traffic one day, 4-way stop
radio on, listening to the DJ describe
the excitement of broadcasting live
from a south side *******
between songs
giggly ****** screech in high pitched
dog whistle voices
trying to entice me
into meeting wild red heads
georgous brunettes, ***** blondes
yellow, then red, then slowly traffic
moves on
continuing the maze
blockades block, jackhammers
tear up half the street, change lanes
the heat of asphalt, a constant barrage
of noise
straining, amplifying
I turn a ***** off in mid-squeal
looking around I realize
I had arrived
this was the world of grown-ups
I so desperately longed for in my youth?
no bat mizvah, no tribal rite of passage
but if I'm lucky
I'll make that green light

Mom was my go to girl
who always
had a plan
a list
and a mop
and picked me back up
every time
but this last time
i was really ******* at her
for not being there
to help me
get through the whole ordeal
of her funeral
and making me face it alone.