Thursday, March 1, 2018




At dawn I recall
the shape of yesterdays’ clouds,
each one at variance, a differing

outline, and how we argued about
their shape and the wispiness of
that cruciform shape that disbursed

right in front of our eyes, before we
could settle the debate and come to an
agreement on how it had really appeared

to us. As the sun rises, I
notice the sky is cloudless and
your chair is empty too.

Later in the week as I look
at the clouds alone, it does not
much matter their shape nor that they
even exist. By tomorrow, I’ll no longer feel like looking.


I had a friend who believed in Heaven.
A smart lady, who spoke with God.
She knew she was being heard.
Here, she had many abilities
and she was brave and feared little.

She had dabbled in magick,
lighting candles of different colors
and chanting over their flames
to bring about specific effects.
I never understood this behavior,
in parallel to her church-going ways.

She claimed that God’s church
and the Kiowa teachings of her youth
and the Wiccan creeds were not at odds.
She said anything done on behalf of another,
if done with love, could not be a wrong thing.

We watched the sunsets in Key West
for several evenings in a row
while vacationing there.
She told me of her faiths
and her lack of fear about dying,
although at the time she did not know
that within a few years, that would be her reality.

I told her while she was  ill
that she was facing it so bravely.
She smiled, as that seemed to please her.
I was not there for her last breaths,
but I suspect she literally heard God guiding her that night.

I know she was speaking to him.


Age 5 was a good number.
I went to kindergarten,
announced my engagement to my crush
at my sixth birthday party.

At the good number 18,
I got to vote for the first time.
And at 25,
I married the love of my life.

Once 58,
I got off the gerbil wheel of work
and my life became my own.
Within year 62,
I wrote and published my first poems.

Not all years were good numbers,
but the ones that weren’t
are written on other pieces of paper.


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