The Date

THE DATE

She laughs

a little too hard.

She tries a little

too much.

She is supposed to be out

enjoying this thing.

But she can’t stop thinking

of him and how much she

wishes he were here,

instead of this guy,

who makes her laugh

a little too hard.

Dragon


The animal creaks and groans loudly,
it clangs and rattles incessantly.
The metal scales beat and pound
on each other.

It clanks back and forth, back and forth,
swaying through the night as it
roars mercilessly across the
countryside, its tail whipping to
and fro.

I sit safe and snug inside the belly
of the beast, watching as the
lights flick by at alarming speed.
I’m not afraid,
the beast will protect me.

As we scream into the station
it vomits out its passengers and is
still for the moment, panting.

Then like a shriek,
the little man in the
tight black suit and black hat
blows his whistle and waves.

Reluctantly, the beast moves again,
building up speed, lurching,
howls back into the night.


                                          

Spider Webs

Spider Webs


I walked up the stairs
and felt the clingy fingers grab my arm.
I suppressed a shudder and
pulled off the thin invisible fingers
of webs on my arm.
Like faded dreams of mother gone again,
brother come back.
Things from the past that won’t go away.
They tug at my mind and whisper in
my ear.
They refuse to be put away – forever.
I dust and dust to keep it all clean, and yet,
at night, those spiders,
they come back again.

The Date

She laughs

a little too hard.

She tries a little

too much.

She is supposed to be out

enjoying this thing.

But she can’t stop thinking

of him and how much she

wishes he were here,

instead of this guy,

who makes her laugh

a little too hard.

Jade


 
Green, dark, deep, mysterious, timeless.
 
Oriental, distant, unreachable, unknown.
 
Depths that I cannot plumb,
 
no matter how hard I try.
 
I can wear it but,
 
never own it.
 
 
 
 

Dreams

 Dreams

The stained glass

picture that is my dream,

shatters to thin, gossamer

shards as I as reach

up from sleep

grabbing at them, trying

to keep the picture in tack.

Too late, they dissolve,

sugar candy in my hands

and slip back into that shadow world

that is the nether

regions of my mind.

Bubbling just below the surface,

just out of reach

the images entice me,

tantalizingly close.

I turn to look and they

wash away,

chalk pictures in the rain.

Paper Heart

PAPER HEART                                                                                                                              

I take out the paper,

red, pink and silver.

I lay out the best, small scissors and                                                           

freshest glue.

I carefully fold the colored paper

into two neat halves and slowly cut

the  paper heart.

And then another and another.

With the glue,

I place them together, delicately.

I create the perfect, beautiful

paper heart.

I hold this to you and you take it

and tear out a small hole

in the middle.

You hand it back to me

and smile – sweetly. 

I am left with a tear in the middle

of my beautiful, beautiful, heart.                      

They Don’t Take the Train

They are old,

they are young,

they are middle.

They dress in all grey colors;

neither black nor white,

just faded shades of

everything.

They sit in the train station

and watch TV or sleep;

they don’t take the train.

The trains come and go

on every hour and  the half.

The people dump out in gabbling gobs then,

get sucked back in through

clanging metal doors.

The men sit and stare;

happy couples run and grab each other,

then say teary farewells.

Teens, in groups, walk arm in arm,

 chattering parakeets.

The men sit with stony expressions.

People drink coffee and eat ice cream.

The stores open and close,

the people go home.

The men sit;

they don’t take the train.