Poems
Rules of Travel
I miss the way Kansas City looks
on the way to Colorado
when I have jumped in and, at 70 m.p.h., escaped to my far off place
on a whim;
when my lust for exploration,
my need to just “be” –
to exist in my own time and space and thought –
overtakes my need for safety.
I miss wondering what would happen if I
turned off onto a side highway, just to take it on,
just to meet the challenge of the unknown.
I miss dreaming about that little town I just passed:
What do its inhabitants do to make ends meet?
Who lives in that little brown shack on the passenger side?
What are they watching on the TV I can see flickering through the
dingy lace curtains? And what made them
decide to put lace
in those old windows anyway?
In my urge for going, in my need to
roam
be free
fly away
I am reminded that I am
my own, myself
Only now, I am the inhabitant of
That little house on the passenger side of another’s
car
Watching the TV that flickers blue
As they pass by
on the way to
Wherever.
Shalott, 1994
From under the awning she stands and
watches the pink spring wind
blow the passers-by down the street.
Like watercolor kites they
stumble and tumble
Hands holding hats on
or skirts down
Fighting, yet savoring and embracing
their newly-come help-mate.
“How free they look,” she muses,
sheltered from the gale by the
cool brick at her side.
Her thin strings bind her to the wall
and she,
like the lady who was doomed
to weave images that she could only collect from a mirror,
wonders what life would be on the outside…
How would it be to be like those kites?
She ponders freedom for a moment more
and picks up her scissors to
cut the floss that holds her.
And then, as she had a few thousand other times that year,
she sighs,
puts down her scissors,
And watches another kite tumble by.
Posing
Snapshots
Brown and white and curling
Of you on your stoop
Or in a field in a dress
(I think I have that dress)
You, whom I never knew,
In a rowing-boat
Posing for someone,
And looking so much like me
That it scares me.
As I peer into your face –
My face, my eyes,
My pose, my dress –
I wonder,
What was it like
in your black-and-white world
And I think,
As I look at my color reflection,
I think that I know.
Solace
As you are sleeping
I hope that diamond dreams
fill your mind and
draw you to seek the treasure that is my
Love.
As you are sleeping
I pray the silence engulfs your
very being with plentiful peace
Oxygen for your soul.
I will not wake you until you have
found
what I am longing for:
You, me, we
slip under and delve into our deepest of desires
Night
Touch
Taste
Dreams.
The Game
And at the end of the dream, I win.
because I have shed every last tear that I had for you;
because I have whispered my last prayer of hope;
because I know now that I am stronger than you, and wiser.
I know that there is nothing left to salvage of this
wreckage
of my self, and of our former love.
And so, in conceding,
in walking away,
at the end of the dream, I win.
But when you have finally awakened me,
I will return to your side
always trusting,
always hoping,
always persevering,
never failing.
And I win.
