Category: Uncategorized

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How I Beat the Heat


Hallmark’s Christmas in July movies

high velocity fan, full blast

pretending there’s a blizzard

piping hot black coffee

wrapped in sofa throw

Schnoodles piled high

all of us

beating

heat 

The older I get, the less I can endure the extreme heat and humidity. Give me a blizzard to handle the scorching heat! I’ve found that a good snowy Hallmark Christmas in July movie with love instead of hate, free from the problems of the world, is my ticket to a better day! Raising a mug to you – Cheers! Stay cool!

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Peace Lily Death

directly home after

the graveside

service of her

husband’s funeral

she pummelled

all 9 peace lilies

down the bank

into the

Flint River

they remind me of death

hurling the plants

with emphasis on

words as she flung

the polished green

leaves over the edge

me, cheering her

for their unspent

lives unlike that one

on our front porch

a funeral leftover

that will not die

yellow-brown curled

leaf fingers grasping

for life in all its

wanting to be


me, planning a trip

to the river bank

with a peace lily

Photo by Sergei Fomichev on Pexels.com
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The Tick

At 3:54 a.m. 

I felt it~

the sting itch

of a bite

on my insole

I fumbled for

the itch cream

back in bed

couldn’t sleep

4:17 I felt the

critter urgently

scrambling 

Along the back

Of my shoulder

Up my neck

Behind my ear

To my hairline

Where my fingers

Found it,

Pinched all 

The way to the

Sink, released it

To see a lone star

Tick scaling the basin

I turned on the water

Chased it down the

Drain, pulled the stopper

And filled the sink 

But still felt the

Crawly itch as I 

Lay back down

on my eyebrow,

under my armpits

in the fold of my ear

even my clavicle 

itched ~

(they don’t 

make

clavicle itch cream)

Photo by Erik Karits on Pexels.com
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Farewell Flower Petals

more goodbyes today,

this time the petals

of the yellow roses

adorning her casket

the ones I rescued from

the graveside for fear

the deer would eat them

instead bringing them

home to make potpourri

but never opening the

lid, finally pulling the

red Russell Stover

chocolate Valentine tin

from the top shelf of

the closet, opening the

lid, taking in the

faded scents of

New Year’s Eve 2015

the day of her funeral

a last day of a year

a last day of a lifetime

a day, June 13, 2024

to say goodbye to

the flowers I’ve kept

for so long

I scattered them at

the edge of the wood

where the tragedy

happened with the

squirrel so the flowers

recycled to another

farewell and will

live on in this red

clay pine tree forest

forever

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Unraveling Nonet

Photo by Rose Rosen on Pexels.com

a catastrophic system failure

when things don’t quite go as we’d planned,

spinning out of our control,

fall apart at the seams

come undone, collapse

unraveling

spiraling

groundward

splat

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Pet Rock

Photo by Peter Du00f6pper on Pexels.com

after she died

this all

become a

pet rock

relationship

a biding

of time

a hermit

in his paper

kennel

speaking

only of

those who

bid their dogs

farewell

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The Edge of Grief

Photo by Mikhail Nilov on Pexels.com

approaching the

edge of grief

alongside a friend

and the blur of the

numbing steals all

sense of time

and place and memory

of sequence of order

of hunger and thirst

of exhaustion in the

energy of fumes

we’d just returned

from lunch Tuesday

when her call came.

I’d missed it, called her

back to learn her

husband had fallen

from his chair at

work and she was

hospital bound.

I let our boss know.

A friend and I

arrived to a

room full of people

we did not know.

And just like that,

a lunch special

slice of pizza and

salad with lemon

water later, the

world is changed

forevermore

just hours

before she

broke down

in the waiting

room with the

declaration

we weren’t finished.

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A Flickering

Photo by Anett Szekeres on Pexels.com

at 4:37 I heard

scrambling of paw

on wood floor

ticky-toe hurried

steps toward

the bedroom door

next the whining,

different from normal

pleas, like someone

stepping full weight

on my Boo Radley

then a return to

the bed, where he

turned in circles

bumping us with

his body to wake

us up, then lay

between our heads

trembling

panting

as if there were

a ghost.

I took them out,

all three,

in the light balmy

mist of the

pitch black

Georgia backwoods

starry skies

thought of the bits

of squirrel tail

over near the tree

line where violent

death hung in the

recent air

we came back

inside, and I turned

off the light to return

to bed.

A flicker after the

switch-off, and I

knew.

Hello, Mom!

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All This Pain

Photo by Yusuf Cou015fkun on Pexels.com

the closest we

ever got to a

rainbow was a

peacock feather

the day the two

went to Noah’s Ark

to look for things

to discover

to wonder about

I didn’t feel like

that kind of mother

who says a prayer

and leaves it in

the lap of Jesus

without worry

I was more

the warrior type

praying everyday

hoping all the

nickels would add

up to be worth a miracle

I knew in the back

of my mind when I

saw the Cheshire Cat

smile