Saturday, October 1, 2011

End of September

2100Hard to believe it’s the end of September already. The last day of the month; days are cooler now and evening falls quickly. Nights are great for sleeping as the humidity has finally disappeared, and I’m wistfully hopefully that it never will return. The trees in my yard are turning wonderful shades of red and gold and orange, and the plants in my pitiful garden are looking sad and forlorn, as if they know that winter is just around the corner.

What should a person concentrate on this time of year? Fall? Halloween? Christmas (Gasp)? For me, I’m just concentrating on getting through the next few months one day at a time, trying to put one foot in front of the other until winter comes and goes and spring arrives again.

I’m hoping to spend some winter-time in warmer climates this year but nothing is definite. What in life is definite when you get right down to it? Not much, really, except death and taxes (as the old saying goes). And I don’t like either of those choices.

The university students in my town have taken over again. They are everywhere—in supermarkets, banks, the liquor store and the post office. I love having them in our town. They add life and youth and a vibrancy that the town lacks in the lazy days of summer. So what if I have to wait at a crosswalk for ten minutes while seemingly hundreds of them head to the university cafeteria? Small price to pay for the influx of money and variety they add to our sleepy little town, I think.

But they look so young now that I’m surprised they can cross the street by themselves! Baby faces, long hair swinging in the wind, backpacks over their shoulders…hard to tell which ones are high school students and which are university newbies. Sometimes the only way to tell is when they are carrying boxes of beer or bags filled with wine from the local liquor store. And even then I have to look twice to make sure, because they all look SO young!

For the next few weeks I’m going to try to enjoy the fall. I know that before I know it the weather will be miserable—cold and rainy and snowy with lots of sleet and hail thrown in for good measure. And then I’ll be missing the trees with their brightly coloured leaves and the mosquito-free yard and the sun-dappled deck in my backyard.

Here’s to a wonderful October and November!

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Moody

My mood is somber
Regardless of sunny skies or rain-filled clouds
I weep
Over oatmeal, world news, once-forgotten melodies stirring in my brain
Memory kaleidoscopes
Like diamond-sparkles on my finger
Remind me of my loss
I have no sense of time
Of moving forward
I sit and stare
At my husband's ashes
In their pewter urn
And hope, one day, for peace


I Need



Life back the way it was
Before sickness and death tore a hole
In my heart
Large enough to drive a truck through.
I need a loving smile to warm me,
A hand to hold when thunder booms,
Arms to wrap around me in the night.
I need
To stop needing…

Saturday, February 26, 2011

I Dream In Colour

I dream   of fire-pits
flames the colour blue
yellows licking at my spine
Rose-coloured glasses
smashed   in grey rejection
A mustard-orange pain
burning

Bright reds   dark reds
blood reds...red blood
spilling in my dream
filling hands   buckets   rooms
Blood red rooms
dripping

I dream   of hospitals
white uniforms
green garbage bags of death
Colours fading
brown earth
brown earthworms eating

Black

* "I Dream In Colour" was originally published in Poetry Halifax Dartmouth No. 27

Close Cover Before Striking

Your touch awakes me
Tempts me
to shed my slumber-skin
Your teasing fingers dance
like flames   upon my spine
I feel the heat of body
pressing   into body
Yet wrap my arms around you
like a moth   drawn
to a fiery death

Your whispered words of love
mesmerize
Entice me to ignore
the acrid smell   of burning wings
Forgetting match-book cover wisdom
I melt
into your fire

The scent   of After Shave
hangs heavy in the air
like smoke

* "Close Cover Before Striking" was originally published in Poetry Halifax Dartmouth No. 27

You...Do Not Know Me

mirrors   do not know me
I am not   round face
nearsighted   weak chin   small
breasts   stomach stretched   from
bearing children
dimpled thighs   kneecap
missing   grey hair mingled
with the brown   more grey
than brown

close friends   do not know me
I am not   good wife
good mother   swimming
with the tide   sitting
on the fence   always ready
to make brownies    for their
bake sales

you   do not know me
you find me   shy   an
introvert   never tasting
chunks of Life larger   than
a woman's share   you
do not know me
inside   I dance
naked   in the North wind
catch bullets   with
my teeth   walk wires
high   above an open fire

*  "You   Do Not Know Me" was originally published in The Pottersfield Portfolio Volume 9