red dust of today
orange of tomorrow
filtered purple of the sunset
ivy jade of summer
silver puddle sparkle
like golden cobweb dewdrops
wet grass and damp feet
dripping wax to porch steps
the crickets' song grow dim
white dandelion dancer swirling
swept by the chilly wind
firefly chartreuse brightness
quickly fades to dark
the angels' whisper jagged
and smothered now the spark
Sept. 24, 1995
Sunday, September 24, 1995
Saturday, September 23, 1995
Wet Dreams
A mermaid is drowning in the shallow
water
she calls me
but I do not want to help
her.
She is not mine,
and her scales do not fit me.
I want what is hers
but I cannot have--
Drowning--
neither can she.
Sept. 23, 1995
water
she calls me
but I do not want to help
her.
She is not mine,
and her scales do not fit me.
I want what is hers
but I cannot have--
Drowning--
neither can she.
Sept. 23, 1995
Friday, September 15, 1995
Untitled
A hardened heart
and down I lay
to search for hope
again I pray
My plight for peace
and trust and love
My eyes stray upward
to the ceiling above
My room is small
yet walls close in
I'm looking back
to where I've been
My life lived well
no sound regrets
And still I search,
no love found yet
The crowd looks on
my breath gives way
As I leave my dreams
to try again; maybe better
today.
Sept. 15, 1995
and down I lay
to search for hope
again I pray
My plight for peace
and trust and love
My eyes stray upward
to the ceiling above
My room is small
yet walls close in
I'm looking back
to where I've been
My life lived well
no sound regrets
And still I search,
no love found yet
The crowd looks on
my breath gives way
As I leave my dreams
to try again; maybe better
today.
Sept. 15, 1995
The Day I named our Palm tree
hey, I'm stranded
but so are you.
You understand
my desert island.
our surrounding waters black.
black is the faces of them,
all of them
The tide washes up upon our shore,
it's rising now.
our desert island is shrinking away.
The patch of land we share
holds our lone palm tree
I named her for us:
Destiny
Sept. 15, 1995
but so are you.
You understand
my desert island.
our surrounding waters black.
black is the faces of them,
all of them
The tide washes up upon our shore,
it's rising now.
our desert island is shrinking away.
The patch of land we share
holds our lone palm tree
I named her for us:
Destiny
Sept. 15, 1995
Friday, September 8, 1995
One Afternoon
His wavy, wet hair hangs in his
Huge brown eyes
and I ask him, "Why does it rain?"
He doesn't have an answer
but the tilt of his head is enough
The corners of my mouth turn up
as he kicks out
Making the creaking porch swing
jerk backwards and up into the misty air
And I start to wonder
why I feel so enchanted
on such a dim, damp day
so I lean over
and brush the brown tangles
from his face.
Sept. 8, 1995
Huge brown eyes
and I ask him, "Why does it rain?"
He doesn't have an answer
but the tilt of his head is enough
The corners of my mouth turn up
as he kicks out
Making the creaking porch swing
jerk backwards and up into the misty air
And I start to wonder
why I feel so enchanted
on such a dim, damp day
so I lean over
and brush the brown tangles
from his face.
Sept. 8, 1995
Monday, September 4, 1995
Strength of the Ladybug
hopes lost
later found
pieces missing
weakened broken fragments
limply strung together
now
trust mangled helpless
the ladybug is again strong
plastic smiles with
unhappy eyes
honesty behind unknown
the ladybug is again happy
fright beneath lies
purple wonder to the dewdrops
decide to stay- or go
I'll go, you can stay with
the ladybug
Sept. 4, 1995
later found
pieces missing
weakened broken fragments
limply strung together
now
trust mangled helpless
the ladybug is again strong
plastic smiles with
unhappy eyes
honesty behind unknown
the ladybug is again happy
fright beneath lies
purple wonder to the dewdrops
decide to stay- or go
I'll go, you can stay with
the ladybug
Sept. 4, 1995
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