Mother's Day - Looking Back

 I wrote this poem last year. Every year on Mother's Day I think about my Mother even though she's gone. She was my best friend and I miss her dearly.

Oh, Hello Mother 

For Mother’s Day 2020

It’s good you are not here

for you would worry. You’d call me 
every day
to ask me how I am and
if the girls were fine and
if grocery store was busy and
what was out of stock. You’d call me
every day
to make sure I was eating well and ask
when was Garry was coming home again and
if I’d seen the news about the prices going up and
what we had for dinner. You’d call me
every day
to tell me what movie you’d watched and
who you’d played cribbage with and 
how you enjoyed the visit to the gardens to 
see the tulips and rhododendrons in bloom. You’d call me
every day
because you’re bored, 
because you’re anxious,
because it’s all too much for you to handle.
It’s good you are not here to worry.

© May 2020

Being Brave Enough To Put Yourself Out There

 Imperfection–The Me I Love The Most

The words I wrote before are gone, copied to another file

for later times, for cloudy days. I start again to craft 

an image on this page, to present my thoughts as I go forward, 

to begin anew as if to reveal the book of everything I’ve done,

to shock reality within to come without a barrier, to flush

my wounds in private rooms inside my head. Alone I cry not,

but yell into the darkness, desire that you wrestle me into 

a caring warm embrace. Then I’ll begin again to heal.

© May 2021

Clematis in May

Spindly vines weave through the trellis,

year after year, taking over, erupting in

delicate buds of pink and white, that after sun

become a pride of petals, rotating as the light

scoots across the sky from east to west. Flowers

still pink and white emit joy until slivers of green

peak out, grow to leaves and hide the latticework

until autumn breaks forth and the cycle begins again.

© May 2021