Feet
My right foot is quite comfortable.
It wears a pink-striped sock.
My left foot, though, is bare and cold,
like a river rock.
I have two seasons sitting here,
two textures when I walk.
Friends
Friends will call and help you know
that rain will fall and grass will show
and spring will come and poems will flow.
Who Knew?
Who knew it was going to be so hard?
Who knew life wasn’t easy or fair?
Who knew? And who was gonna care?
Who knew?
You knew.
And you were there.
Sunshine Blues
I need a little bit of sunshine in my life.
I don’t need parties. I don’t need spice.
I just gotta have some vitamin D synthesized.
Oh, I need some sunshine in my life.
Only So Much You Can Do
It seems I have no time
if I wake up late
but when I wake up early
I can’t stay up past eight.
I’d like to need less sleep.
My baby’d like that too.
But we’re getting ready for bed.
There’s only so much you can do!
Laundry
This week
the way you grab the clean laundry out of the basket
looks a little more like the way I do it
compared to the way you did it last week
and at this rate
will I ever have to teach you to fold the laundry?
Or will I just
show you and show you?
If Gas Were Free
If gas were free
I would know this town,
not inside, but out,
just from driving up and down.
If gas were free
we’d wear out these treads–
like the back page of an atlas
that’s been well used, well read.
If gas were free
we’d be in the car,
and you’d be soothed to sleep
by the tones of NPR.
Strong Consciousness
“Why doesn’t she stay asleep?”
I beg with a sigh.
“Our baby has a strong consciousness,”
is my husband’s reply,
as she rolls to a crawl and agrees
with a twinkle in her eye.
Privacy
I’ve written poems you’ll never see.
They’re as not-for-you as a life at sea.
It’s just a matter of privacy.
Holding Pattern
We’re in a holding pattern,
not sure where to land,
and we’re not just going to settle
for just any patch of sand.
We’re not planning how to crash;
we’re not running out of fuel.
We are looking how to ground ourselves
to work towards earth’s renewal.