remembrance
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Held, beheld, belovedSquishy soft and warm in my fingersBrowsing the shelvesWith my hands and my eyesUntil I find the perfect skein Beheld, beloved, heldHours, days, weeksI carry my knitting with me alwaysStealing curls of time with my needles Beloved held beheldPicot edges frame your faceYour small arms reach outIn woolly sleeves to me Emptying drawers
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Hold my handSnake your armWarm and firmAround my middleTuck your finger under my chinLifting up my head when it is downNever believe me when I say I’m fineBecause you know I’m fine meansI’m finally broken and empty and so very veryTired of being never enoughLook deep into my eyes again, againUntil I see me reflectedAnd
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A thin ribbon spooling out of the growing darknessWatching him from the corner of my eyeIn the passenger seat I’m afraid for himAfraid of everythingGlittering his eyes picking up the street lights Afraid if he’ll go to collegeAfraid if he doesn’tAfraid of his friends, his choices Rows trees speed past usI turn to speakAs the
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Ode to a feckless phone without mercyIf only I could I’d fling your heftO, device of delight shining brightlyDragging my joy to its lowest depth When your role was to make me happyInstead you’ve rendered my plans bereftPixelated frozen true crime documentaryNo podcasts, no paranormal audiobooks, no nothing left Yet a skein of wool has
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Hold the doorAlways hold the doorEven if the next customer is steps away from the entrance and has to do a little run walk to get to you and you have to kind of weird waitHold the damn doorWith a smile Don’t hog the soda machineThere’s always someone waitingAlwaysThis is not the time for beverage
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At a plain desk cocooned in a sun cherished nookEditing my novel with a hour stolenVoices inside my head captured between pagesI can’t finish, I’m no writer, I’ll never be good enoughIn the citadel of books, all voices are shushedCloistered in hardback silence Cloistered in hardback silenceIn the citadel of books, all voices are shushedI
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I want waffles.Golden buttery windowsDrizzles of maple syrupCheek and jowl, with sausage and eggsA saucy wink from peaches I want waffles.Melted morningsThe day’s sweetness dripsJostling with solitude and paperbacksFlirting with a nap I want wafflesTo savor over timeAnd time to savor overA morning set on a plateCurled on the sofaUnfurling my thoughtsWith my favorite mug
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A workplaceA dining roomStorage facilityAnd private libraryMy shuttle, my shelter, my solaceRide on though your front left is capriciously lowCoffee splashed blazons your dashBumper love taps, mementos of lessons learnedRide on Parking garages be your nemesesCrushed seltzers carpet your floorPhone holders will fail at the less opportune time Ride on Noble chariot Through thick and
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Pink fabric enrobedBlue lines pagesMarked with a rose colored satin ribbon Yellow legal padsErupting with tight cursive arcsOf the characters in her head Brown skinned girl bent over a bookSheltered in her closetEscaping into technicolor worldsTo world building in shades of her own Hope rose from darkness ButLittle girls grow upBig dreams overshadowed, left fallow
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“Then suddenly…it’s over.”Notifications chime again, againInsistent inboxThe weight of constant connectionsDeadlines slipped off the edge ofAnother day “Then suddenly…it’s over.”Chest crush squeeze of parenting parentsWhile tending teenagersOf being everything to everyoneYet never quite enough forAnother day “Then suddenly…it’s over.”Like a magician’s sleight of handThe flash on a coinAn image held in the mind butAlready gone
circular staircase 