Saturday, April 22, 2017

Impossible and unending (revised)

I arrived
during the homily,
gladly found 
a place in the back.

Thought of you
and prayed for you.
For all this week
has brought your way.

But more,
for daily life, fear, pain
that must seem
impossible and unending.

Afterward I hopscotched
my way forward through
congregants making
their way home.

And lit a candle,
thinking of you.
And hoping for something better,
anything, better.

I lit a second,
and quickly a third.
Soon realizing I would run out of candles
before I ran out of people and prayers

So I quit.
Quit lighting candles,
that is, not prayers,

and left.

Monday, April 17, 2017

Winter 2017, Bellingham

Never thought
I'd get tired of snow.

I was wrong.
Very wrong.

post Easter reflections

It must be
the day after Easter
I've got a ham
sandwich for lunch

Saturday, April 8, 2017

Wherever she goes

Balancing herself on the edge of a step
our granddaughter reaches
to touch the switch. Asking,
"Can I turn off the dark?"

Soon enough she will learn that "we" say,
"Can I turn on the light?"
Cute phrasing will drift and fade as she
is squeezed into social correctness.

Yet I choose to hold hope,
that there will remain within body and breath
an ever-kindling coal nudging her
to turn off the dark, wherever she goes.


                                   Reading at SpeakEasy 19, Poems of Darkness and Light.
                                        April 8, 2017, Mt. Baker Theater, Bellingham, WA.