debt

Stopping by a Mansion in my Neighborhood

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Modeled after “Stopping in the Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

Whose house this is I think I know
His wealth is in his business though
He will not see me nosing in
Or what news I’ll take when I go.

My little girls must think it odd
To stop here, so detached from God
Where money rules the heart’s desire,
To darkest greed he gives a nod.

They pull my wrists and ask to leave
And wonder why it is I grieve
The only other sound’s the truck
That brings his gold out to his sieve

The house is lovely, tall, and grand
But I will not lose where I stand:
With them I have the upper hand,
With them I have the upper hand.

Burdened

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other than starving
(because yoga doesn’t work)
my solutions fail

her comment stings
the tail of disappointment
snaps back at my truth

five pounds is that clear?
how hard i carry the weight
of words i can’t lose

That Moment

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Modeled after “The Debt” by Paul Laurence Dunbar

that moment of giving in
when you know it is a sin
you taste the sweetest nectar
though it makes you a liar

too soon the taste is sour
all because of one hour
exalting joyous moment
will always be monument

then, it washed away your pain
hidden joy was found again
now, the pain’s here forever
if you’d known… you would never.

Home. Made.

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another stressed day
just before Christmas bustle
lost to this sickness

tears fresh this morning
frozen pond glistening dawn
star-studded boathouse

guilt trailing my job
as he rushed home, two sick girls
and me? meetings, plans

she came back today
babyless, unpacking shelves
repacking her life

her despondence stung
i couldn’t leave her alone
burdened with boxes

we made plans, had lunch
I got your card, she told me
we’re not sending any

no family photo
for his first, never Christmas
(this is what i hear)

but she won’t say that,
leaves me lines to read between
your girls’ pic was great

her grief in all words
she tells of Christmas-free plans
prepared to move on

this i carry home
with oldest’s three earned awards
to my handsome chef

his job ends next week
i won’t worry who’ll nurse them
and make chicken soup

noodles fall from spoons
and girls, all better, delight
priceless remedy

now they’ll discuss me
what will he do now, and you?
i’ll have no answer

only the safety
of the home he makes for us
beyond what they see

Sueños

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extreme poverty
keeps parents from saving sons
live to work and die

but ten beats away
greed scalpels addicted souls
work to live and die

Life Sentences

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the aches and fevers
mid-week stay-with-me stresses
medicine won’t work

she came in a dream
all better (never better)
if only the truth

i hate trapped secrets
the solid weight of her truth
worth liquefying

they have stopped asking
bless the sick season for that
(she’ll be sick for life)

losing a baby,
making candy memories,
alcoholism:

all life sentences
that never bring forth the dream
that they’d imagined

School

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i learned there’s no guilt
like the guilt of motherhood
my Tuesday lesson

tossing and turning
don’t turn remorse into gold
they make me feel old

whispers in the hall
worse than when i was in school
oh wait–i’m here. school.

we mock others’ pain
forgetting our own swallows
mixed up with sorrows

three deaths, intervention
wrap up semester’s longing
for life, a new life

we all want sunsets
bright red-circle memories
to bring back our youth

then we’d be in school
that captive institution
we couldn’t flee from

my Tuesday lesson:
mouth shut, sunsets disappear
mouth open, truth shines

Chemical Wordfare

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for liberty’s sake
chemicals dropped from the sky
burn the communists

our government saves
the young boys it sent to war
now dying old men

but in Viet Nam?
cancer, deformities, death
are all we offer

Monday’s lesson stings
the words of a war veteran
burn like Agent Orange

The Price of Freedom

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two free holidays
first one ushers in a storm
mountains disappear

skyline from here
is always magnificent
minus the whining

how influential
a video-head friend is
shuffled in with clouds

moms must compromise
perk warmth into snowy scene
where surprise awaits

no seats near the girls
overheard conversation
prettier than snow

a Vietnam vet
three decades of war photos
now he snaps for peace

how much do you charge
to bring your eye-witness view
to my refugees?

you see, there’s this book…
as all great requests begin
Inside Out and Back…

Again, he returns
to where he lost his manhood
and became a man

I don’t charge a thing:
without our youth, our schooling
the world won’t change

we make lesson plans
till the girls will wait no more
Happy Veterans’ Day

first free holiday
though nothing is ever free
let snow send us peace

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Nursing

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if money could buy
the time i lost regretting,
would i be happy?

my biggest paycheck
untouched in the nursery
unswaddled bonus

its late-night crying
ignites a hole in my soul
but babes are fragile

even when nursing
they can fuss and search for more
easily cracking

my scarred nipple skin
tearing my hope inside out
leaving me empty

safe in its blanket
i will keep my money wrapped
while i nurse my dreams