your statement blocks me
as cold as this ground cover:
fighting against spring
i want the blossoms
from the newly-planted trees
to save me from this,
to float on a breeze
of similar desires
that could bring us home
(not this gray fabric
stunting all life from below,
constipated spring).
i want soft petals,
lilting with the seasoned wind,
ready to escape.
faith is found in food
connecting cultures, caring:
life’s love remedy
who is this traitor
sitting in my mother’s chair
where we were once queens?
we could predict life
by list banalities
that make up our days
never thought i’d hear
Ivanka in the west wing–
demagogue ruler
queens of the castle
reign over new recliner
cause cats run the show
summer has arrived
and is melting all the snow
stealing our winter
Percocet nightmare
worse than any surgery
(pain outruns nausea)
an afternoon wind
blew in a flurry of texts
and opened this door–
it knocked down a glass
from our dishwasher-less rack
(because all things break)
it sent me spinning
on my endless carpool trip
(keeping up with kids)
the sun was shining
on my student-made pastry,
unaware of shards.
i swept up pieces,
circled back to get daughter
and wash more dishes.
baklava melted
like rays of afternoon sun
in each of our mouths
(a reminder that
gusts of wind, circling drives
are just shards of days)
on Monday, a beer
because the cafe was closed
and i needed one
it was a sports bar
and the tears she shed were mine
in goodbye moments
(i didn’t share them–
not then, not out on the street–
only in words. here.)
because i’ve been there.
we have all been there. mothers.
sisters. wives. children.
i should have seen it.
the comings, goings of days,
built on loss and fear.
her tears were my tears.
her daughters were my daughters.
we are all the same.
