As dusk settled around our suburban nest
after dinner we’d leave the mess of our desks
to walk with our children to the park or next door
and visit with neighbors, talk some more

about research and relatives and what’s local news
—the usual banter that kept us amused.
The sidewalks had cracks with heaved up cement
from rootlets of trees by sublets for rent.

Our neighbors were playwrights, professors, nurses and maids
elders, young students, rabbis cheerful and staid
some worked at home, others played.
Yet at dusk our jobs for a moment left us

as fireflies twinkled joy invictus.
The children would a-giggle leave bikes on the ground
run to catch the magical bugs they found.
Shadows lengthened their laughter, unbound our day

from restless worries and dismay.
As the heavens settled in crepuscular peace
friendly shades danced dark from every leaf
of a tree filled with a constellation of birds

who burst into song. We would smile when we heard
The Singing Tree give voice with none deferred.
Our youngest asked if they were quarreling.
That’s just how starlings say I love you, my darling.

Write an enormous TO DO list
add a check by each item
when complete, lose the list

As new issues and details arise
write furiously on stray scraps of paper
various colors of sticky notes

Layer stacks of folders, books
papers, electronic accoutrements
with sticky notes in between

Bump against a stack
set it to right in a different
order, mind the dog

doesn’t chew a vital sticky note
Let the wind ruffle through the papers
pack the temple bells and Tibetan door

—a long golden cloth with the Buddhist symbol
of infinity, select photos, books, more files
ongoing editing, rewriting, a favorite rock

Invite a friend over, talk, rearrange
papers, play a few songs on guitar,
pack ***** clothes in bags that breathe

clean ones tuck in around artifacts
to protect them, give away more stuff
to friend, pack an umbrella

Remember there was a time
when I arranged my life
by the 15 minute interval

ordered books on my shelves
by subject—whether primary
or secondary—and century

Now, I like to leave things
a little more forgiving
with room to doodle in the margins

write a letter, feel more peaceful
walk the dog, return to the chaos
and eventually the clouds

There’s a knowing kind of unknowingness
when you count on the sun to rise
or feel the moonlight dance behind the clouds
and fear not your own demise.

There’s a peaceful sort of slumber
between this world and the next
where truth and beauty forever dwell
and people are never vexed.

It is a world invisible
to eyes that only see
the ****** deeds and manmade things
of our society.

For in the world of love what counts
beyond the temporal you or me,
is all of us within one Heart
embracing the world eternally.

I squinch my eyes
up toward the sky
and fill my lungs,
let go a sigh
and as I rejoice
in sun and sea
and sparkling stars
and you and me
my heart grows so big
it floats out of my chest
above the trees
and the birds in their nests
up it floats, higher and higher
above chimneys and smokestacks and cathedral spires
it grows like the dickens
and tickles frisky kittens
and makes salmon shimmer
and candlelight glimmer
as it reaches back to earth
with a great big hug
for every creature, plant and bug
uniting all in love’s pull snug.

Spirals swirl pink, purple hues
under pepper glaze within a mug made
of Carolina clay formed by dinosaur bones,
fish heads, castaway bouquets
of crepe myrtle dreams bobbing bright on a breeze
that led me to you

a venture from which nothing but trouble could ensue
for love makes me a servant to whim and folly.
Reason waves farewell and takes the first trolley
to some make-believe land where events make sense
leaves me stranded and helpless to master romance.

My mind once a goat in full command
could guide my heart without reprimand
but like a sheep led docile to slaughter
by love’s hand to death, I submit like Isaac, a devoted daughter.
My good shepherd where have you gone?
What is to become of my heart so undone?

I fail to find meaning in day-to-day scheming
mundane murmurs, duties professional seeming.
Untethered from love, my soul departs these shores
determined to escape and feel nothing more
but the cold wind of logic and rational thought
on the open sea where the sun’s gold gleams not.

Dark tides swell, swallow in briny delectation
meaningless words, gull cackles of conversation
on shore car wheels spin, chrome shines
though speeding innovation dulls not the fangs of time.

Silence beckons my inner confusion
stops the mockery of my forlorn delusion
my heart numbed clean
of hope and wonder, joy and pain
no music but thunder, no laughter but rain
beneath a warm blanket of earth
my comfort at last sustained.

I felt love in the thorns that scratched
my hide until I bled running through Indian
Forest barefoot and alone the trees my
home away away away from all the worries
grown ups silently shouted.

I felt love in the musk of ancient walls
left witness to weep into the moss
that watched civilization torn asunder
through dark ages and enlightenment
and two world wars.

I felt love in the sky and the stars so close
they tickled my ears as they whirligigged
over the Rocky Mountains spinning stories
and songs the brook babbled into lullabies
by my sleeping bag.

But of all the loves mine to cherish
none compared to the wild child wonder
I felt with my boys from the womb, to my arms
to my heart torn by thorns as they ran
into the forest of the world.






(c) Pamela Moffatt
April 27, 2016

Without my ******* Jack secret
decoder ring I am lost
when I see a periodic table

I want to read left to right
for sense not status so
Nitrogen plus Oxygen means “No”

Phosphorus plus Sulfur makes “P.S.”
Lithium plus Beryllium spells “Likable Bear”
and so forth

Abbreviations of elements
that form the world I inhabit
appear disguised as aliens

their images blur from solid
to sinuous liquid
then gaseous vapor

as my eyes glaze
over into white noise
switch cognition channels

to resolve the mystery
contain the strangeness
in a familiar form

my numb brain grows a snout
starts poking around
like an old hound dog

snuffling autumn leaves
to decipher the scent of calculus
when the jonquils of high school algebra

have long since fallen
and confused summer yellows
with dew wrapped plums

quiet in dappled shade
plump and smooth
glistening soft

with promise
on a blue checked cloth
upon a worn oak table





(c) 2017-04-06