Thursday, September 9, 2010

Sea of Shells

Why are shells so fragile

Yet withstand the weight

Of the ocean and shifting sands?

Endlessly tumbled and scrubbed

To the beat of the Earth's heart.

Yet they will bloody the hand

Of the one who tries to pry.

Are hearts close cousins to the

Sea of shells – small fortresses

Those oysters when carelessly

Tossed about. Take pains to

Open gently. Harsh tides will

Shut this heart up tight; same

As the mighty clam. Yet through

An ocean of turmoil will rise to

Offer pearls of love again.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Pounding The Pavement (for my Father)

Things remind me— Little things.


the simplest of sounds or

sights or a color of light

nudges a thought.

The time of day casts your shadow.

A word or flavor on the tip of my

tongue– suddenly you appear gazing

at me with your comments and the

sound of your voice reminds my ears of

how much they miss you.

I want to drop down and pound

the pavement with my fists till it

cracks open to release you and

bring you up from the dust,

bring you back to the world so

you can fix things again. And

I will stand there dutifully, happy

to hold a flashlight for you into the

dark night while you work.



You hand me a bowl full of chocolate pudding

With whipped cream and sit down with yours

in the big lazy chair. The image of

you remains in my head burned in

softly over the many years– a perpetual

Polaroid of your smile and the

bowl of some delightfully sweet

supply of dessert you hand me

the ice cream piled high with syrup and

scoops of whipped cream

and bananas and your smile in the

blue glow of the television. We share

the night and it occurs to me how

pleasant is the sound of your voice and

the big cold spoon of sweetness you give me

complete with sprinkles on top.

Oh Sky!