POETOGRAPHY



Afghan

Reaching through years
Grown between us
Mother touched me today
Colorful, warm, soft,
Without a sound
It is her
I wrap around me
How she speaks to me
Across time and space
So vividly
Coaxes a warm tear
So gently
Opens an emptiness then
fills it without a breath







Aging

Aging process, away with you!
Go work on a piece of wood,
a rock, a mountain.
They take it so much better than I.
When itís time, just
scatter me in an instant.
It saves us both much bother.







Stepping Aside
Carolyn B.

There once was a time
I walked in back of the line
No budging, no cutting
Just stayed close behind
With my eyes on your back,
Or your tracks or your tail
Destination: a place
The path we're taking
Void of choice, one creature's whim

Now, I've stepped aside
Quite aware of conventions
Still watching you,
Yet with some distance
Ever so grateful
For clean, wet sand to imprint







Young Thing
Carolyn M.

Reach higher,
Brave young thing,
Whatever
The obstacle,
No matter
The darkness.

It takes only
A shaft of light.
A glimmer of hope.

You can push through
To brightness.
And brightness
Brings strength.
Now grow, grow!







On The Road to Cetate

Somewhere...
on the road to Cetate,
where it finds its way
through sea green waves
and in the distance
a blue ribbon river
dances a winding waltz,
they stopped,
felt the sunny breeze,
and laughed uproariously.
In their mirth
they caught me and
planted me like a tree.
I took root and will stay
to mark that somewhere
and give it a name.







Opening

You showed me an opening
through that thick,
impenetrable heart of yours.
I wouldnít even have noticed
but for your sentry
making such a doggish dinó
waking me from the indifference
Iíve been working on for years.
Now again I yearn to push the gate
and climb into your hidden courtyard.
But if I try, Iíll be torn to shreds.