Finding the Sun

04 Sunday Jan 2026

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

It is a dark night

And fog has settled

As if to say no

To every question

the solitude

of not being able to see

What will happen

Or if you’ll survive

What is about to come

This is the time to remember

Who you are

How you got here

Why you came all this way

Down the broken road

Even if you didn’t know

(Not knowing is a grace)

Life, like the fog

Never seeing too far

Sight is an illusion

One more step

Keep stepping

Eventually, you will find sun

I Was Wrong

02 Friday Jan 2026

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , ,

I thought she was like me,

The practicer of goodbyes,

The mover on’er

The cutter of moldering ties.

I was wrong.

Had I known how long

She’d still be broken,

Would I have broken, too,

What remaining pieces in me

Were still able to be broken:

Lost shards, tossed about,

On the floor of my soul.

Some things are too hard to see,

They must come slowly,

Like our failure to answer,

Unanswered prayers,

Or to stop the cruel rendering

Of her chronically tender heart.

A Day

01 Thursday Jan 2026

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

The frost is so thick

They mistake it for snow

The world turned to ice

Frozen, in a new year

2026, I must say it

Over and over

Since time has stopped

There is no reference

Except seasons

Except birds

Or, no birds

Yet, the robin remains

Fearless of the frost

And I’m left to wonder

At the reference

At time, or no time

All time, collapsed

Into a single day

In (say it) 2026

A New Year And New Door

30 Tuesday Dec 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , ,

A New Year, or so they say,

A new start, the passing of one day,

Which allows us to close a door.

I am thinking of who I want to be,

If believing a clean slate can set one free.

What didn’t serve well in 2025?

Or, didn’t serve my entire life?

And how does one change the habits

Of who we are, even bad,

The hobgoblins of our past,

Which lead to regrets, sadness.

What is it blocking joy;

What foils our better self,

Cedes territory to the evil elves

Sent to destroy happiness?

If age, and wisdom, could be a shield,

And we’d yield no more to influences,

What could rebirth truly be?

I’m asking you to envision

What I cannot see. Or, haven’t seen,

A shiny new door, clearly marked ‘free.’

Day of the Cello

29 Monday Dec 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

He drags the bow,

Steady, strong, and slow,

To its freedom.

And in the air, silence.

There are, maybe, one hundred souls

Sitting together in a long quiet

Before the shredding storm of song,

The hairs from some magnificent horse,

Breaking free, too. They linger, they long

To dance, eyes closed,

Raptured to a heaven,

The songs of suffering angels,

The way he sings the cello,

Transformed

To its ways, its sways,

Its dangerous foreboding,

Its celebration,

Its redemption.

—-

Six Months Later:

—-

I still find delight

In the memory of wine, music,

That candlelit night

Under a rumbling train,

Where we released our hopes to soar,

and even our mutual pain, with song;

Captured, for a moment, then gone.

Like fallen angels, we fell,

To a silent night, a silent world,

Perhaps, indistinguishable from hell,

Except in those rare moments.

Traditions

28 Sunday Dec 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , ,

The traditions remain:

An old family tree,

The making

Of Gingerbread houses,

Wreaths, and lights,

A Christmas fondue–

And I ask,

Will they get me through this?

On the other side of the shadows,

Is my shadow,

I take that by faith, too.

He said, I can’t find my purpose.

I wondered out loud,

Is there a purpose?

Besides surviving, that is.

And the smaller things we cling to,

Making them bigger things–

An outsized portion of our existence

Is in the minutes, winding down.

To wallow in the shadows

Is, perhaps, a luxury.

It comes to this:

At first, we know everything,

Then, nothing,

And at last,

We are okay

With our lack.

Those Who Do Not Leave

27 Saturday Dec 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , ,

Everyday I carry him inside me,

And beside me, like the robin

Who should have gone south,

But is dangerously late to leave,

Eating the berries from my tree.

I carry him to the sink in the morning,

And in the mirror, I see his crease

Above my nose, or the one wrinkle

By my right eye, under his hair.

I carry his burden of wanting to know–

Too much, at the risk of happiness,

Even expecting something bad

All the time, in the midst of good.

What excuse do I have, except being his daughter,

To carry such personal things?

And yet, to lay him down, to walk away

Into the lightness of my own shadow;

I do not want to leave his burden alone.

So, I will stay here and hope

The winter is not too hard,

And that the days, growing longer,

Are not ungenerous to one lost,

Scavenging forgotten berries.

Introduction

26 Sunday Oct 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

What is love,

But an unanswered question?

I do love the way

You listened to that note—

It hung in our mutual air

A moment we shared.

As if a matter of life

And death

Because it was that matter

Which consumed us.

And then gone.

I do love the way

You go

Missing.

——

I know love comes broken,

But it took breaking

To teach me.

——

Perhaps, my first love was longing.

And in that desperate hope

Came everything.

—-

And then there was love.

—

And then there was loneliness.

—

And then there was complete despair.

—

And then there was you.

—

Still breaking me.

Because such intensity can only consume.

Thirst and drink, but the glass is always leaking.

Reach and reach, but the hands seem empty.

—

And then there were your arms.

—

And then there was loneliness.

—

My time is winding down to tell you

About being human.

Such a world!

Born into a desperate flesh

And nascent blood.

Will we learn too late

How precious it was to suffer?

—

I would like to introduce myself:

Even as I mourn myself.

Confessions

27 Friday Jun 2025

Posted by in Poetry

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Would you like to hear a secret,

No obfuscation, no vagary,

A secret, that cuts so deep

It wounds you,

It unwinds you,

Because it is you,

But you want to know,

Yes, know,

It is also in me,

That we carry it together,

In shame, and in sorrow, sure–

But let’s be honest,

There is also pride–

I mean,

We have done what we had to do,

You and me,

Have we not,

And what blame is there

In surviving?