In Dedication To

I stand hidden in the shadows
on the edge of a clearing
silent and watching you,
Cowardly Lion.
Soul raped
Heart rent
Body wracked
You stumbled here to lick your wounds.
Cornered and dangerous
Gnashing your teeth
I hold my breath
in the sudden silence
as you catch my scent on the air
hoping you cannot hear
the war drum trapped in my chest.
I know that should I move
Should I dare to reach out to you,
my veins would be ripped
and left as vines in your garden.
There is already too much of me buried there.
So, I brace myself
against a last roar of warning
before you bend back to your work.
Under a mask of snarling superiority
and a new dinner jacket,
you stand upright
to wander through trees
you still cannot see
pretending to be human
with a heart that beats a human beating.
But as you pass me
Unpausing
Unblinking
I hear your own drum crying.

Silver

I have two parallel silver strands in my hair, and I love them. They are a reminder that my youth is leaving me. Youth is a love affair I found too late, like most things I love. And like most things I love, I will hold on to it far past the time of letting go. I haven't let go. Not yet. I lean into the mirror, plucking my brow, sighing at the lines etched by stress. And life. And laughter. I lean into the mirror, thinking it could be today. Perhaps today. I will decide later.

The Boy

My son still asks if there is a Santa Claus. He tells me facts about the sun that no one has ever learned before. His excitement is quiet, but palpable. He carries a wooden sword for protection. He is never sure of when he might come across a rogue band of Yachets. That's Yah-Sheets. A race of humanoids who can only be killed if their heads are chopped off with a sword. He's never seen "Highlander" and I smile. If you cut off any other body part, it will just grow back. He'd rather be a Yachet. They don't have to deal with sisters. I say I'd miss him if he ran away with a roving pack. He says he'd turn me into a Yachet if he can figure out how to become one. His sister can go live with Nana. He practices his fighting moves just in case he is accepted, but carries his sword because he is still human. He will protect his family. Even his sister. And he tells me I'm the best mom.

Purpose

I know there is a meaning
There is a purpose
Because there is a you
And you smile

Our meaning is intertwined
In the ever-deepening lines
Around your eyes
When you smile

Our purpose is written
In the lines of my palm
I imagine caressing your face
As you smile

I close my eyes
Breathing deeply in love
Exhaling my doubt
And I smile

I remember...

I remember what it was like to breathe
after you left the room
and time slowed
so that even colors stretched behind you in confusion
leaving me to gray shadows.
I have waited here
in the space of a heartbeat,
people like pauses
giving momentary silence
to the demons drowning me.
Your hands in my hair
bring me back to the surface
with a beautifully painful shock.
And oh I remember what it is like to breathe.

Haiku

The taste of metal
I forget to breathe, heart pounds
Your shadow passes

Searching

Pixilated fog
Grayed out
White being too pure
Black being too defined
To hold my falling state
Fitting no shape
Round pegs
Square holes
Hammers crumble in confusion
No thing and no one
Can see truth
The flame you follow
Thinking it a beacon
Is a spoon bent by my mind
In my hungered turmoil
Created for tomorrow
Reflected weakly in today