The odds are I won’t;
Yet, someone will die today:
I let the bones roll.
(November 16, 2020)
-
only mine (94)
by
I cannot see much of life
beyond the ragged hedgerow
I’ve grown from broken thorns
scattered like blood
across still water
unless the walls fall
and all the little boxes
open like rain misting
the tightly trimmed
topiary with ice
and the cold parenthesis
cracks like cicadas’ wings
as i slip from myself
a worm through earth’s minutia
feeding on the remains
and fragments that were mine
(November 13, 2020)
-
an assumed direction (93)
by
this labyrinth has no end
no center in which to be eaten
no twine to trace an origin
just a blind turn toward hopea quick glance back toward despair
one cannot be lost without directionyet our angled descent is certain
I can see the sun before it setslisten to the fuss of squirrel and jay
or be consumed in worry’s fire
there is no clear path to happinesswe are always here
(November 5, 2020)
-
patience is a key to hope (92)
by
we must wait
without fear
for the end
memory’s a mirror
distorted anew
in each reflection
rippled across a dark pond
(November 4, 2020)
-
mirror mirror
by
the well offers no echo
for the truth to rise upon
to allow her to step screamingfrom the water’s cold depths
to shatter the infinite mirrorswhere we live out our lives
(November 1. 2020)
-
beaten path (90)
by
like an old dog
circling his bed
i turn then turn
the idea around
a phrase a word
a memory
until the floor’s
worn away
and i fall
a slow spiral
like a rock
bounces against
a stone wall
and steps
with a clatter
before it stops
and I wonder
as if the thought
mattered
(October 30, 2020)
-
drifting homeward (89)
dropping soft scraps of light
like rose petals on the floor
the moon threads her way
between the bare branches
purpose requires ambitionwhich the moon lacks other
than its spiral descent
toward a predestined end
where is the metaphorwho holds reins so slack
trusting the horse’s nature
to find a slow way back
(October 29, 2020)
-
give pause (88)
by
crow turns her blacker eye
deeper into the night
then one last direful crybefore she takes flight
(October 28, 2020)
-
heal thyself (87)
all I have are dull words
to bludgeon my tongue
into submission
but if i strop the blade
the leather’s length
until the edge gleams
as with sliced ribbons of light
then I might excise
the shadows from my heart
without a trace of blood
to mark my disillusions
(October 27, 2020)
-
within this slow dismantle (86)
by
as familiar as the cat
on the sill watching
a mockingbird outside
this melodrama’s cliché unfolds
I pull another brick
into my sepulcher
another dead anger
to crush my chest
another tired
misunderstanding
another regret to haunt
my moist graveyard
(October 27, 2020)
-
No Answers (85)
by
As the old world swirls
in laconic siroccos of doubt
flinging sand adroitly
into a warm Mediterranean air
how do I stand still with silence
aware only of this moment’s breath
how do i ignore the nattering pedants
who brandish their wet cliches
like limp wands twined from roses
as petulant proof of their originality
how do i negotiate the spaces
i must traverse without
slagging off chunks of flesh
until the sinews abandon my bones
(October 26, 2020)
-
no returns (84)
step left
step right
I’m here
where else
(October 26 2020)
-
Anger is an Energy
A disheartening day. upon opening my email this morning, I found out that one of the founding teachers at ARS was resigning because of the covid return polices at AISD. Then, this afternoon just before 5, i got another email from the principal announcing that yet another long time math teacher at ARS had resigned. In one day the heart of the math department was ripped out. Ann Richards is an all-girl STEM school, having not just good math teachers, but fantastic female (role model) math teachers is essential. We had two of the best. Had. Math teachers are already hard to find, but math teachers of the caliber of these two are impossible to replace. The covid return policies trickling down from DeVoss/Trump, to Abbott and the TEA, to AISD and surrounding districts is directly responsible for the loss of these two teachers. There will be more resignations and retirements across the district and the state. These policies are causing irreparable harm to education in Texas, which will echo for years after the pandemic subsides. It does not have to be this way. There is no reason that TEA has to cut funding, which is the club they are using to force the schools to open. There is no reason that everyone has to return. There is no reason to put so many people at increased risk of a terrible and deadly disease. There is no Reason. Just Madness.
-
Toward Winter
by
With a late autumn
wind, a burr oak leaf flutters
gently to the ground.
(October 20, 2020)
-
the rime grows thick (83)
you walk home
it’s late
the snow falls
as thick as your dreams
when suddenly you think
you’re lost and the wood
nearby is strangely
far from home
the bright lights flashpatterns on the snow
like christmas lights
in the village square
the sheriff interrupts youto say no that yes it is
a normal amount of blood
for a woman that size
you laugh at the absurdityof dying so close to your home
what was the point of leaving
when you had nowhere to go
(October 12, 2020)
