state of the union address

Sometimes the politics make no sense.

Sometimes I'm overwhelmed with the thought

that it will be your face I'll see, forever,
and really? The rest of my life? Do I really want to do this?

but stopping makes no sense.

Some days I realize what a gaping nothing there would be

If I kicked and screamed and worked out our differences
(tried to work out our differences)

And nothing worked. If the holes I'd tear couldn't be closed.

But still. Do I want to stay this way?

Inertia kills. Or at least wounds.

all the pieces

Often I am so busy
With laundry and bills and does the dog have to go out again?
And the news and the computer and homework
and how was your day, dear?
That I forget -or worse, ignore-
that you just wanted to make a puzzle.

Hunker down on the floor, pour out all the pieces, sort them
by color and shape and flat sides

but noone else. Just Mama. Just...me.

I forget, because you seem so young
That you won't always be three
And want to scooch down, belly on the ground,
And talk about your day. And color. And brush the dolls' hair.
And tell me stories of Penelope the Hairbrush and her friends,
saving the day, one wayward curl at a time.

I need to remember that someday I'll be remembering
how small

you were,

and wishing you back, just for one more puzzle.

she has her wings now

She was twelve and headstrong
Caught between teenager and little-girl
tossing head and laughing mouth
When she disappeared

And although now we don't know
What happened
We know someone took her away
and snuffed out her light
closed her eyes and silenced her laughter
and left us to piece together the whys and hows


And we're scared and bewildered and missing this child/woman
we never really knew
And frightened that this could happen again
And so, so sad for her family, lost and broken.

The wind still shrieks her name around corners, but only the seagulls answer.

midnight covers check

Sometimes
The poetry of her
Is most evident in her long legs
Her funny crooked toes
And the gorgeous sweep of her back.

Arms flung recklessly about in sleep.

And I wonder how
The world ever was

Before her.

It's really November?

There are few things

Sunnier

than a gorgeous, open-blue sky day

and a small person running
to find

the last leaves
creaking on the trees.

(mittens fly in abandon)

the wrath of mama bear

When you
(who have no children)
informed my husband
that we were lacking

(and possibly dangerous to other people we love)

about something
that isn't your CONCERN

I caught a glimpse of something I hadn't seen before

that you

are JEALOUS
and LONELY
and UNHAPPY

in your looks-so-perfect life.

And I will never look at you the same way again.

sometimes life is all Who lyrics

The sky is glass, the sea is brown
You pretend that you don't see
It's in my own hands, I know I'll cope,
You can't listen you won't hear me


How can we forgive a grievance
Prepare to walk the line
I think this heart has bled once too often,
I'm gonna make the most of my time