The quiet one
who can't
have fun,
she sits
in the corner
like Little Jack Horner--
like the three little kittens--
there is no pie

His eyes sparkle

like new snow on a moon-lit night,

fiery jewels in a now-weathered face.

His warm complex smile draws me in,

well-mixed as it is with a sadness

indistinguishable from the laughter

as much as sweet cream is indistinguishable

from the bitter coffee it flavors.

The Silent Women

The silent women,

go in and out of our lives

secretly suffering--

seeing their doctors

or not

taking the endless series of variously effective prescription medicines

or not

being hospitalized

or not

Remembered by their families for generations?

More likely their lives are covered up and silenced

because they do not fit the family myth

of easy functionality and unbridled superiority.

After all, they did not fit in--did not socialize--

or if they did,

they were too irritated

and out of control

of their own tumultuous emotions

to be able to restrain their anger

at a world

where fate

dealt them the short straw

of mental illness.

I am blown back and forth
like a child's plastic swing
in a hurricane,
it's flimsy chains
becoming hopelessly tangled.

I'm trying not to
throw up.

Easter Grief

The Lord is risen. 
We are in the garden, 
surrounded by palms
and the heady scent 
of Easter lilies 
and spring flowers.

We are sweating 
blood. 

Olympic boxing. 


One guy in red. 


One guy in blue. 


Rock 'em, sock 'em robots

Karma and the Colorful Purse

Today I bought
the colorful purse
that will either match or clash
with everything I wear,
and a red wallet
with room enough
for discount cards
from every store I've ever
walked into.
They were on sale
and I got an extra 20% off
just for being
over 50.