wemagine

January 8, 2008

I am a person
this is precious
because you are

a new year thought

January 1, 2008


peace-sign-option-2.jpg

Peace
and Prosperity
for the Poor

(for a change)

 

Missing Him

December 24, 2007

Let’s work backwards:

 

First, I will miss him just sitting in his chair

content to smile as if he had no needs  –

connected by spirit, happy to be.

 

I will miss the shuffle of his brave feet

planting the walker ahead like an ice axe;

climbing mountains we could not see.

 

I will miss him presiding above the fondue

a sorcerer stirring by candle light,

conjuring batches of yuletide glee.

 

I will miss him saying grace at the helm

from which he would love, work, and lead

a life of no regret,  a life of family.

 

 

 

no hard feelings

December 7, 2007

Saw a man jogging…
he looked like dad.

I tried not to wish
it was him.

I tried.

budku2

December 1, 2007

2007_0306firstbatch0241.jpg

after playing in snow
he comes home
a confection

One week later…

November 29, 2007

I spin the can
of mixed nuts
peering into a greasy
kaleidoscope –

not a cashew
to be found

only jordans,
filberts, and peas
tumbling
in my disdain.

They are all
that remain

of the feast.

The night Joe left

October 2, 2007

Joe asks me
to stay,
to keep
the earthly vigil
into this night.
He speaks no words;
nor do his eyes
look upon me.
No one knows
except he
and I.

This dad cannot
take leave of his family
while lying helpless –
unable to whisper
“don’t worry”
unable to say
goodbye.

exhausted,
the others begin
to go home.

It will be better
this way.
I the sentry
who falls asleep,
He the spirit who sheds
this breaking body.
this sweet life…

Joe continues to stare
at a ceiling he does not see
while his inner core
prepares for
departure.

Across the hall
irritated alarms split
the midnight silence
as some poor soul
gets up to
wander.

tell him
he can go – it is okay
to go.

Sitting in the visitor’s chair
at three
a.m.
I fall
victim
to
the
mathematical
drone
of
the
oxygen
machine…

Soon
after,
he touches me.

I awaken.

He is gone.

drooling purple

September 28, 2007

little vampire
brings his face to the toast
sucks in the jelly.

with each wave
these last moments
bathe our consciousness

there was nothing else…

(but jobs are waiting)

put the tiny shells
in your pockets
I tell the boys

so the big ones won’t crush them.

two buddies –
they are eleven
never to be eleven again.

the breeze hides my tears.

2003

Tangipahoa

July 8, 2007

tangipahoa.jpg

Bone grit
explodes into
a thousand ripples,

welcoming home
her borrowed
physicality.

painting by Nancy Stutes