Poetry

Memory Care

I wrote this in September of 2019 just after my father made the decision to place his long time girlfriend into memory care.

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Memories of my mother

who wasn’t

She’s not here any more

For years she tore

the flesh and bone of his soul

Ceaseless berating

belittling and blaming

became

His comfort

No more

He’ll remember those glimpses of good

The in between

Moments when she put away her guns

and loved him

for who he was

A good man

who’s finally drawn the line

He’ll do what’s right

Not what just looks right from the outside

He tried

and tried

and tried

He’ll honor all those years

Let her have some dignity while there’s still time

He’ll say goodbye

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Poetry

By Myself

Sometimes when I’m by myself i cry.

I don’t know why the tears flow

more easily in the solitude of my own mind.

When I fly.

Alone.

They come.

My heart open wide.

Vulnerable to the memories,

pains,

and joys of my life.

Like a songbird that waits for the break

of dawn to open its throat and sing with everything it has,

quieting it’s music in the full light

I fight

the urge to burst,

seemingly with all the strength I have

and so much so

it hurts.

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Poetry

Rip Cord

Loving you feels

like leaping without a chute.

All at once

Exhilarating, terrifying, and the truth.

We step over the threshold willingly welcoming

the free fall

clinging

to all our hopes, dreams, and that one we hold dear.

You pull the rip cord on my heart

opening a canopy so wide

there’s room for both of us inside.

Our bodies intertwine.

Spinning through vast space and time

until our shadow casts a net over that place

we’ll collectively feel our roots again.

And we jump again, and again, and again.

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Poetry

Hot Knife

Your memory moves through me like a hot knife on cold butter

Melting the hardness as it goes and

I know

you’re here again to make it all better

The champion of my strength and encourager of my softness from those days before I was fully formed has come home. 

You roam through the hallways of my mind

the guide 

for my own hand to pick up that hot knife myself and cut through the solid surrounding me

Freeing that tenderness that needs to be seen

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