When I think I'd like, somehow

to alt, shift, delete... the iceberg...

myself, I shudder at human frailty

the aww that would make more,

into less... melting it

for immediate comfort

...sacrificing our depths

Barefoot in the dirt,

roots to my private earth.

Caresses of my clothes sliding off,

like music

hitting the ground,

seduced my skin into liberation.

Trails of lace and silk

left behind

with the girl I used to be.

Spring air on my naked body,

yet I’m stifled inside my skin.

The moment the ocean pulls me

under her, I surrender my breath;

It’s breathless,

being

bodiless.

You’re getting ready to turn

I can feel it

In my bones

Or

More importantly

In my gut

My last baby

My peacemaker

My pacemaker

My pacifier

Your sweetness

Is unparalleled

Your innocence

Everything

Your empathy

A burden to most

A gift to you

Intensely aware

Every hand held

Crossing the street

May be my last

You allow it

Just one

More

Time

Even as your hormones rage

Stop embarrassing me Mom!

But your empathy

Keeps you from

That one

Last

Time

And I see you

And I promise

To let go

Soon

So soon

But not too soon

Not

Too

Soon

Born of love

In love

With love

You are love

Personified

Always reaching in

Reaching out

Even when it hurts

Or, especially

When it hurts

I look up to you

So much

30 years my junior

Also

My daughter

So freely

Willingly

Hopefully

Helpfully

Authentically

You

Give your love

Knowing

It’s always deserved

Even when

We can’t see it for ourselves

Patience is a virtue

You are ever virtuous

With me

And my gratitude

Is rivaled

Only

By my love for you

pulling in the wash line

pulleys squeak under load

clothes plucked and folded

summer day at my abode

nothing beats wind dried

toasty warm by the sun

sure it takes some effort

the freshness next to none

05/17/2025

Be careful what you say,

for when you speak

you breathe.

And in breath,

all life speaks

through you in return.

Cycle unending,

even death a breath

released into a larger lung:

the greater to carry a spirit,

a thought, a memory.

Each of these,

life’s little metaphor

for the still

unending breath.

And life:

the breath of a lung

without boundary.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Heaven and Hell.

From void to dust,

from dust to clay,

clay to flesh,

flesh to new flesh,

new flesh to star stuff.

Breath unto breath

unto breath.

Now and forever,

amen.

Slick precision,

Ink rolls despite indecision.

Cross-marks, hash-marks,

slashes, dashes,

dead-ends abandoned,

in hopes that Providence

will deliver a satisfying string

of scribbled symbols:

signifying furious sounds,

harmonic mouth noise,

maybe even thoughts!

(If we’re lucky.)

Words flow,

But meaning?

God only knows.

Cosmic processes coalesce:

the gears of time,

the spheres of mass,

the birds, the bees,

the trees, and all things now

and hereafter.

But even this odd process

is given permission

amidst the galactic flurry.

Dark secretions stain the paper.

no consequence, no afterthought

that can be blotted out

except by violent scratching erasure.

A good pen is hard to find.

Harder still, a mad mind

to guide it.