Simple

It’s simple

erase,

the loss,

the pain,

that emptiness,

erase it all,

move on,

smile,

laugh,

hide those scars,

behind sleeves,

those bruises,

cover them,

hide it all,

don’t weep

don’t live grief

exposing

us living with pain,

loss,

emptiness,

scars and bruises,

behind

sleeves

in silent caverns

of memory

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Aftermath

Hand holds the red rose

Thorns pierce white flesh

Blood flows

A river of pain

No one to understand

Crushed under

Meaningless lust

Buried under the purple-red bruises

Red eyes filled with tears

The red sun sets

A fiery end

The Watch

Watching, waiting

it’s what we do

watch and wait

Listening for footfall,

across the shiny hall

Whispers loud

Shoes squeaking

elevator doors

swoosh

open,

then close

no one gets out

silence

solid as a wall

our dreams

broken like waves

upon the rocky shore

watching, waiting

it’s what we do

listening for that footfall

waiting.

Thanksgiving 1963

Thanksgiving memories of that day

as we ran outside in the cold

playing a game of touch football

or going to see the big game

where our team always lost

but we didn’t care win or lose

we had friends and fun

and coming home cold and hungry

the house filled with the aromas

of freshly baked pies and turkey roasting

Macy’s still had their parade

and we watched as Santa made his way

filling us with hope and cheer

even in that dreary year

when our world changed before our eyes.

The Child That Never Was

I could see it in her eyes

the memory of that day

as she lay in bed waiting

a doctor,

a nurse

she knew it wasn’t good.

The child died

it was that simple

the life carried within

was no longer.

She yearned to touch

to hold, to see

that which she had felt

all those months

even now

her arms ache to hold

that child she never saw.

The years go on

time does not always heal,

the small casket buried

holding her heart.

So Simple

It seems so simple,

to just kneel and pray

to remain quiet and still

for just a few moments,

taking time to be silent

to block out the noises

and the shouts of others

who seek only to be loud

drowning us in a sea of words

hateful words, angry words,

while all I seek is silence

kneeling in the sanctuary

looking up at the stained glass

seeking peace that lies within

to calm my heart,

yet, tears come to my eyes

the heartbreak of deep loss

that loss of spirit and faith

in all that I hold dear and true,

so I kneel and pray

to quiet my troubled heart

lifting my hands to God

seeking that deep peace.

Simply Listing 

Write a list poem

one that is a list

of the stuff you have

ordinary stuff,

that book of Donne poems

that old 1928 Prayerbook

a bag of pistachios 

four bibles four translations

a book explaining all that,

the Burial Office book

and Joan of Arcadia DVD’s.

It’s all a messy jumble

nothing in place 

papers strewn all over

notes long forgotten

fragments of my life

like the lists I create

pieces lost

pieces found

words said 

words not said

words lost on the wind.

A desk of potsherds

a Humpty-Dumpty

all shattered yet whole

piecing together my life.