another 365

a warm, wonderful 2020 to all!❤️

Weathervane

Weathervane – a tiny true story
check out Front Porch Review, and thank you

Weathervane 

Eyes pointed at the sky. Melody clear and perfect settled on the roof. Tiny voice filling the air. Delicate hollow bones balancing on the weathervane. Seems decades ago we discovered the wrought iron fixture at the flea market; a creaky dive with discarded toys, Post-Depression tools and miles of missing teeth. We anchored the wind reader, with its proud patina horse, to the garage peak. There, our valiant filly galloped through the atmosphere till her strong legs could no longer outrun the wind. Somehow, the compass remained intact.

On the dull backdrop of another chilly overcast day, my little bird friend has chosen one metal branch above the others. As I listen to sunrise songs floating down to the driveway, I assign new meaning to the weathervane. S for Sun—for you, the warmth in our lives no matter the weather.

drop foot

Drop Foot  

rising up from the lobby traffic
dark robes shadow her dimming eyes
petrified ash covering her skin flicked off the devil’s cigarette
I now believe in failure
sallow cheekbones sunken above anchored form
where careless pay fingers multiply and nest
prodigal daughter turns painted toenails into broken shine
wheelchairs made of witch-bone wait along the cinderblock
she is tethered to the weight of memories and moments
while tongues speak antiseptic Latin
I neglect the headlights coming at me in the dark
latent images floating like sour candy
all is never the same, driving no escape route
her drop foot like cement on the brake

blackest days

school right around the corner, time doesn’t fly it rockets
I’ve been altering colored photos of my children when they were younger and appeared more innocent😉
I enjoy stepping away from pencil and pen once in awhile and pretend I’m a photographer

new piece published, uneven candles, in Red Fez!

very excited to have my piece, uneven candles, published in Red Fez!
two candles flicker on my broken glass tabletop
duct tape challenges pieces from splitting apart
an out-of-control combine should they crack more
things will separate as they will
two sides, uneven halves
like the burning flames
in my candle jars
one new, its scent overpowering
the other nearly used up giving light to my selfish pen
lopsided breasts those candles
same purpose
the spent candle jar is mucked with wax residue
no easy task to clean for repurposing
when I have so many other jars in my home
loaded with containers, pots, dishes
from house moves
from other loved ones’ house moves
attics, basements crammed up with crap
and an inability to say ‘no’ to anyone
who adores their crap
just not in their home
in mine

illustration drawn a few years back using marker, prisma pencils, and good old crayola crayons

for Lily

what is motherhood if not by your side
watching you my love
what is pure in my life holding by a wisp within your deconstructing body
sweet child how I need to scream inside the ocean
smack the gods
embrace the spirits
where you won’t hear my pain
these arms and legs of mine so powerful
if I could give them and live to hold you still,
carry you as I have done across these years
never with regret
all that I am
wrapped around your life
such beauty in your speaking eyes, your soul-plumped mouth
how you’ve grown these past seasons
metal-bar suns and rubber-tube moons following along your flesh
yet
you and I have traveled so much longer than they believed possible
now
you grow a bit tired
your little body weary from the outside
fatigue settling some on the inside where my care holds you together
but still fierce in your heart
in your eyes of earth
you are my rock
you are my joy
not in any time
in any space
of any moment
will I ever grow tired
of your heart living inside mine

Gallean with ragdoll

to my cousin, Marie for her beautiful daughter, Lily xo