Thursday, January 29, 2015

Snowflake

Falling
One at a time
At a time
At a time
At a time
At a time
At a time
At so many times
That you forget the one

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Ever After Begins Somewhere

After
I lurch to my feet
Bones clicking and
Joints sticking
Cat howling expectantly in the hallway
Clock ticking away ceaselessly in my mind
Which has already raced right past lunchtime and back
Twice

After the world has returned to focus sufficiently
That I can identify a pair of pants almost warm enough
To allow me to brave the unheated basement

After each of those forty or so seconds have passed and

Before I leave the room

I always look back
To the tangle of pillows and sheets
For an elbow or
A lock of hair

Even now

After almost fifteen years

That is still how my day has to start

After
All

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Taking in the Moonlight

I wonder
If 
On that 
Cold
Dark and 
Snowy 
Evening when my daughter
Pants and underwear around her ankles
Presented her bottom and 
Pulled her cheeks back
A half foot from the cat's face
It appreciated
The timing or
The irony
More than I did

Monday, January 26, 2015

Forty One Year Old Stay At Home Dad

There is awake 
There is asleep
There is whatever you call the 
Five or ten minutes
A six year old can spend
Still on the bed
Five minutes after verbally acknowledging both
Morning and
Dad
With one leg hanging out and
Only the top of his head peeking out from under the covers
Muttering 
In the dark
In an increasingly whiny tone and 
Then
If you extrapolate that over the course of an entire day
You have 
The state where I now dwell




electric stasis

cat stretched out on lap
me scared to dislodge wedgies
Stuck in fear of static

Of Families and Noisy Dirty Laundry

I heard the breathing and
Talked out loud about my astonishment at discovering that mom's shirts could breathe
While hanging in the closet
Then 
After a fifteen to twenty second pause to allow 
Maximum happiness for all involved
I pushed apart the shirts to find that
Nothing
Was still breathing
All through the closet
Everywhere I went
Everywhere I looked
Even near the hamper
The big
Newly emptied 
Wicker hamper
In front of which I finally paused
Long enough to appreciate
The trials
Tribulations and
Blessings
Involved with
having a family and
A life
That is so busy and
So young
That I can
Still
Hear my dirty laundry


Friday, January 23, 2015

Of Time and Props

I want to bring home an antique pie safe 
A butter churn
A spinning wheel and
A cider press
For starters
So I can look at them all
While I warm up food in the microwave or 
Create stiff peaks out of egg whites with power tools
At least theoretically
I could close my eyes and
Even step away
To do some laying on of hands
Working a deception on time or 
Myself or 
The egg whites
Kind of like a drive through wild woods and 
Dormant farm land
On a dirt road 
In my 2006 Mazda 5
With a chamber pot in the back



in and out and ...

Every night
Regardless of weather or season
I retreat 
Inviting in the darkness
One room at a time
Never knowing for sure
That it will 
Leave

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Aging Perspective

My son's milk is taunting me
From its smudgy glass
It knows
That I don't want to get up until
I am ready to go to bed and
We both know
That by the time I get up
I will have forgotten all about it
So
Underneath its slowly congealing surface
It laughs at me
A one time
Would be
Statesman
Secret agent and
Hero
Who now
Can't act fast enough to stop yogurt from happening


Tuesday, January 20, 2015

The Best Poem

The best poem
Is the one that falls down upon you
When you are in the shower or
About to fall asleep or
Herding the kids out of the door and off to school
Five minutes late and
Which
You don't write down before
It slips past your fingers and
Runs away
Somewhere beneath your feet

Hope Alley

By the time the ten pin finished with its five second weeble wobble impersonation and
Did actually fall down
I had talked myself into believing that what I had just witnessed and
More
Was possible
For
If an eight year old girl and
An old pink bowling ball
Can find their way
From side to side
Bumper to bumper
Down the lane
At a pace that tests one's patience and
Still find all of the pins
Well
Then
Maybe
After forty years
There is still
Hope