HOARDER (August Postcard Poem 2017)

He rattles around,

stranger in his own head,

snacking on abandoned ideas,

rolling bad choices

into cheap smokes.

 

He avoids the minefield

of lost relationships

as he can no longer

recall where danger lies hidden.

 

Poking around with a stick

in a musty pile of emotions,

he sees the edge of a poem

he came inside to write.

 

Copyright 2017

 

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THE GIFT (August Postcard Poem 2017)

Late at night,

he retreats to the basement,

empties his pockets

of tiny glass spheres.

 

Upstairs,

his wife and daughter

unravel their dreams,

weave them together,

discarding the disease.

 

He works all night,

stringing globes into balance,

flicking them at random

just to hear the sound.

 

He is creating his wife

a windchime,

forged of their daughter’s laughter

so the night breeze can serenade her

when the dreams start to fade.

 

Copyright 2017

CHILDHOOD IS GRIMM (August Postcard Poem 2017)

He had always wondered

about Little Red Riding Hood’s mother.

 

What kind of parent dresses a child

in a cloak reminiscent of a matador’s

invitation to danger,

yet alone hands her a picnic basket

stuffed with smells

that will draw every beast in the forest?

 

Little Red is a magnet for tragedy.

 

And what kind of mother

sends a naive child,

who easily confuses a costumed wolf

with her grandmother,

alone into the woods

to walk the gauntlet of death?

 

And the savior woodsman,

who hacks the wolf with his axe?

Does it not seem odd

that he is so close at hand?

 

He turns the page

as his daughter demands another story.

 

This one is Goldilocks.

He will never get to sleep.

 

Copyright 2017

ONE LAST MOMENT (August Postcard Poem 2017)

On the corner of Fort and Ferry,

on a late Tuesday afternoon,

the hydrangea bush near the statue

explodes into bits of poetry.

 

The hydrangea is ancient,

overgrown,

pushed through time

from ornate to eyesore.

 

Neighborhood discussions

favor substitution

of a young pink azalea.

 

So he cuts blossoms

out of blue-velvet paper,

writes metaphors

of beauty and love,

dignifies the neglected hydrangea

with one last moment of life.

 

Copyright 2017