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William A Poppen Nov 2013
Step by step,
I walk mindlessly
across the patchy lawn
muddy here
barren there
unkept, unattended.
Pleading blades of grass
with drops of hope reflect
morning’s sunlight.
They become my teachers
as they reach out
to grow.
Fresh spring spouts
extol me
to find a place
where barefoot soles
gather joy
with each flex of toe
into the ground.
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Royal Road slopes

enough so that your toes know

which way you are going.

     Kudzu and ragweed accent the driveway

pitted with bushel basket size

holes amid roaming plastic grocery bags.

     A 1960’s version mobile home

fights Mimosa and blackberry bush

to remain visible.

     As I ascend the creaking steps

a neighbor cracks the quiet

to announce that, “Jesse is on the way.”

     I hear the clop, swish, clop

as Jesse corners onto Royal Road

and chugs toward me.

     Sweat rivers from his beard.

He greets me with,

“Thanks for the groceries.”

     I said, "I need you to sign

to show I brought food."

I didn’t ask, “How did you lose your leg?”
William A Poppen Nov 2013
I felt an unusual twinge in my neck
as I turned toward you.

Heavy breathing signaled morning sleep
as my arm reached across your palpitating belly.

These casual cuddles, typical of the start of our day
emit a warmth unlike sunrays or furnace heat.

No use to wake you or tease apart your legs
for seldom do we play.

That may come after morning news is devoured,
bananas peeled and different morning hungers eased.  

Now i rise to consume small pellets of brown, pink,
grey and white chemicals compounded to keep me alive.

There is a stillness downstairs with greetings from a well-worn chair
contoured to support my soul.

Blades whirl overhead churning a breeze
my face accepts upon my forehead.

Now is my time of meditation, my attempt to
listen to whatever god pervades this universe.

There will be no answers, no jolts of insight or revelations,
only small particles of peace to cover my disquiet.

You will lumber down steps with effort accentuated by creaks
and moans that are more pronounced each day.

Our lips will touch confirming both obligation and willingness
to walk beside each other.

I wonder if you think there could be more?  
Could each gaze toward one another be longer?  

Could I unbutton myself enough to see or would you scold me
for such an unrepressed display?
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Dim light from the screen blankets the room
Actors play out their roles frame by frame
My eyes track each movement
while my thoughts focus elsewhere.

My left arm nudges her shoulder
"She is going to leave him," I whisper
The words ignored, brushed away like
an irritating fly.

I'm doing it again, foretelling the story
instead of attending to the display
instead of resting in the now
instead of absorbing each word
I predict the ending.

Later sitting in the quiet
I attempt mindfulness
Aware of the demons
that tempt me from
the peace that passes
my understanding.
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Bored to death with eyes cast upward
she drifts by his sprawling legs
like fog rolling in from the sea

Newspapers clutter the breakfast nook
his ink-stained fingers clutch ceramic
birthday cup — last year’s surprise

Today the cup, the tea, his only distractions
The sweep of her garment
grazes his back unnoticed.

She’ll pour the final cup of breakfast tea
and settle into her longings,
empty as her teapot.
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Tasteful decor surrounds her
Offspring celebrate life in song
Resonating off walls of art
arranged her way
Life now arranged her way
Worn out obligations
Lay untangled unused
stacked neatly upon
a corner table
William A Poppen Nov 2013
Snap, crack, snap -- twigs break underneath
Each burst is music fed deep into her heart
Balmy air blows crisp across her cheek
A kiss as sweet as a daughter's caress
Pride inhaled with each labored breath
Seventeen miles of inclines and slopes
Over fallen trees and swollen creeks
Intentional steps, stitches of success sewn into
the blanket of her soul as she
wanders along the path of her
journey to renewal
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