Connection

My poetry blog

is the vehicle by which

you first felt connected to me.

Now it is the vehicle through which

I must disconnect from you.

Three Gals

I will never see a dog and

not think of you two.

Doggone

You entered my life

with a dog

and you exited my life

with a dog.

(I feel)

I feel

rudderless

without you.

The Difference

I'm in the office

finishing my workday.

You are downstairs

baking a cheesecake.

The dog floats between

floors, scouring the kitchen floor

for graham cracker crumbs, napping next to you

on the couch between baking steps,

and popping into the office to say hello.

At some point,

you both come into the office,

you to talk about the grocery list,

and the dog to roll around

on the floor to scratch her back.

We are existing

and coexisting

harmoniously, as a unit,

as a family.

The difference is

I want to continue

doing this with you

and you want to do this

with someone else.

(My heart is no longer)

My heart is no longer

a healthy muscle, but merely a

mass of scar tissue.

I Miss Your Scent

I've taken to smelling your shirts

while you are at work,

knowing that they

will not be in our house

for much longer.

Thanksgiving Traffic

Three miles in an
hour and a half --
bumper-to-bumper
interstate congestion and
stomach indigestion,
angry drivers with
hungry kids, no
exit in sight, and
no explanation.
Arrivals delayed;
hugs and hand-
shakes on hold;
dinners postponed.
It was easy to get
irritated and impatient,
until we saw
the white sheet
on the ground.
Suddenly, we were
thankful for the
fume-filled air that
we were breathing.

(eyes widen)

eyes widen:
brilliant, cranberry-
orange-colored foliage

(Golden:)

Golden:
A grandmother's love,
like the arms of the sun

(morning tea after)

morning tea after
the morning rain
drop after drop

Summer Simplicity

As summer begins to
close her eyes in
exchange for fall's
awakening, I want
to remember these
days; what it feels
like to slip into
sandals, and hop into
the car without a
jacket and drive to
meet some friends
with Tennessee's green
hills in front of me and
the sun on my back.

(The tree bark gleamed)

The tree bark gleamed
with fresh raindrops as
the squirrel scurried home.

(the three fragrances)

the three fragrances
of the neighborhood: Downy,
lawn mowers and grills

(the cardinal)

the cardinal
sounding off
like the Fourth of July

with gratitude to Rebecca Davenport for a spectacular ending

Sunflowers and Birch Trees (Let It Be)

Just as there is
a myriad of
flower varieties
on the earth and
a host of tree species
in the world,
there are countless
types of women
on the earth and
innumerable sorts of men
in the world.
"Flowers" are not
confined to "lilies"
and trees are not all oaks.
The earth is a beautiful space,
thanks to the
vast array
of flowers and trees
on display.
A world which awakens
to the full spectrum
of femininity and masculinity
is a glorious place.

(summertime snow)

summertime snow
cottonwood seeds
float, flit and blow

PRIDE Open Mic Night

I plan to read three poems at this year's PRIDE Open Mic Night, as a part of Holland's 2023 PRIDE celebration.

Thursday, June 1, from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m.

Herrick District Library

300 S. River Ave.

Holland, MI

 

Join us!

(My heart feels like it)

My heart feels like it

has been hollowed out by a 

steely ice cream scoop.

(I danced with a bumble bee unwittingly)

I danced with a bumble bee unwittingly
during my afternoon walk
very carefully.