Scratching Our Heads
We’ll plan our every move while lying in our bedsand find that we are still taken by storm.Change will come; it seldom warns,and we’ll all be left scratching our heads.
Inert
The weeds grew while we were gone.They knew it was their chance.And apples started dropping–those got eaten at by ants.But the work that we were doingwith the rocks mixed in the dirt,was still sitting there, very still,being stubborn and inert.
Back
Once again, we’re back.Time to rest, unpack,and tell myself, once again,not to get too settled in.
In Lieu of Flowers
In lieu of flowers,plant vegetables,and then you’ll keepyour table full,and you’ll still die,just not as soon,and we’ll plant flowersby your tomb.
She Is Sleeping
There she is, so fast asleep.Her arms are limp, her head sunk deepupon the sheets. So let us keepthe lights down low. Don’t make a peep.Just catch your breath and let her sleep.
Peace
When the river is not peacefulbecause it’s full and steepwe still trust that the oceanwill catch us, hug us deep,and give our souls a Sabbathto ride the waves and sleep.
Different Nations
Dear cousin who I haven’t seen,we’ve moved up a generation.We’ve often lived so far apart–for years in different nations.But now that you’re a doctorand now that I’m a mom,you’d think that one of us had movedto Greece or Vietnam.And not … Continued
A Breath of Fresh Air
Some people feel thatwater is boring,a blank page is numbing,and these white plates are too plain.But have they ever felt that way about a breath of fresh air?
Living Casserole
When I am getting hungry,even though I just, just ate,I’d like some living casseroleto heap upon my plate.And would that end my munchies?Or would that make me yearnfor the work of God to do,and still more calories to burn.
Far
Writing poems in the carmakes each line go far.