Weavings surround me Threads of relationships Intertwine Make patterns Unravel In patches Pull away Threads stretch Pulled too tight And bind Causing irritation At the rigid edges But some have ease And give Stretch to accommodate New ways New shapes That emerge As I change
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Coming back on the ferry To the harbor We glide in slow Brilliant sun high above Leaves a trail glistening In the water A plane slices the sky Below one hundred birds Cut back and forth Amid pleasure boats Dotting the scene The dark mass of buildings Loom Welcoming and Warning Go back to the sun Beach and noise Of holiday Clanging piano Guitar and song In the street Every type of group celebrates Nothing and everything The delight of Provincetown In June A desperate intimate moment At the hospital bed The son's call to his Dying mom On speaker phone And there I was Not family But witness to the Naked truth His sister shook with sobs His dying mom Face frozen by stroke Heard her son's plea I watched her heart monitor Race higher and higher Giving lie to her Rigid expression And when I retold the story To the older sister Across the country Her cry of happy anguish Told me Why I had been there After all Floating in turquoise water Up to our necks Our sunburned bodies cooling Dunking our aching heads Pain driven away By the cool waves We float on An endless current of swells and rolls Every once in a while One reaches higher And crashes on us All cares recede All wishes thoughts Of what could have been Should have been Washed away in The flow of tide We can breathe Smile and fully relax For this is true This is why we are here For this water This relief Crunch then what Looks like a puddle Squashed On the couch Write write dig dig Find the source Find the facts Glue together with words Then crash Smoosh plop No more brain at all On the couch 9 am back to it Crunching again Writing it down putting it down On the page over and over Four hours before Smoosh plop On the couch Through my kitchen window Lies the grid of chain link Sectioning off a small bit From parking lots and yards Bittersweet runs wild Covers all lending An air of primitive ruin To the city vista Snow also covers this world Creates a lacy puzzle Of black and white Right in the middle The blue jay sits brash and loud This is his little plot of land Just as the cardinal owns The chimney next door And the sparrows have the gutter eaves The brazen jay flits his Bright feathers and jumps From fence to fence In the bright snow White linen looks like It should tell a story Billows and drape Wrinkles and sheen A story of straw hats Sailboats Blonde children and Happy endings But that isn't real Or is only for a very few The best white linen Comes from the Salvation Army Where the Haitian ladies Pile their carts high Clothes to send back home White linen for 4.99 Wash it very hot And let it tell Its own story For you In real time There's an edgy little place That gets hit sometimes That makes me cringe It isn't quite real Has the hint of Falsehood An air of pretense Makes me want to shout Lies lies lies I don't Of course No more than I say What is really Going through my head Oftentimes I just think it And cringe But we have to allow For these things In our friends If we are to be friends Don't we Guilt What is it The sound of voices Yelling at you long ago Saying you are bad Not good enough Should What's that Memories of faces judging you Not smart enough Not applying yourself Like you should I hate the shoulds And the guilt Ther only do harm And stifle the spirit We need to breathe free Grow in our own direction Become ourselves and No one else Bluster and bravado Greets with a swagger Surprised at the handshake The boy looks sideways Through slitted eyes Not trusting this Lady come to visit But I move straight To the child and Set up the toys Assemble the blocks Start the game And the little one Accustomed to this Jumps right in The boy thaws And plays Builds towers and Houses and traps And gruff dad shows Pictures of his birthday Frosting smeared on mouths |