Nothing to Do

It wasn't so very
long ago
was it?
When I was a child
and "nothing to do"
was a complaint
a burden
something to suffer through
bear up under
Nowadays though
there's always
something to do
checklists spread far as
the horizon
"Nothing to do"
got lost along the way
an elusive, romantic idea
a fairy tale
Lost Neverland
How bittersweet, really
I didn't appreciate nothing
Until something was all I had

Missing You

Missing you
Like a prolonged pause
Trailing off into nothing, air
Aborted coversation

Missing you
Like a yawning crevass
Mid-abdomen, 'tween rib and navel
Yet somehow deep as sea

Missing you
Like a lost limb
Crippling the ability to function
Illogical phantom pain

Missing you
Like a nagging suspicion
Of the important, forgotten
Uneasy unrest

A Thought

What a growing,
spreading,
wriggling,
bouncing,
shiny little
treasure
of a thought.
Twisting
it's way
up from
the pit of
my stomach,
dancing
its way
up my chest
to settle finally
upon my
upturned lips
as a smile
In the
blue of my
lit-up eyes
as a sparkle.

He's coming!

Counting

Counting        

In your presence, I count
     Profile lingered on hungrily
     Pretending not to feel
     Eyes tracing my face
          Hand never left empty for long
          Soon satisfied with yours
          Sweet sufficiency in touch
               Words let loose into the space between
               Received, considered, responded to
               Sweet communion of intercourse
                    Emotions ebb and flow, a lunar shift
                    You root deep down, an anchor
                    Unmoved, though caressed by tides  
             
In your absence, I count
     Time trailing off past the horizon
     Months, Weeks, Days, Hours
     Years left behind us like regrets
          Offenses forged from vapors and ashes
          Implications ripening into conclusions
          Ire a simpler thing than yearning
               Excuses heaped against transgressions
               Justifications for closing doors
               Rationalizations my one defense
                    Fears which percolate the emptiness
                    You leave in the wake of retreat
                    Multiplying in the darkness there

Interludes in 5/7/5

List

I sat myself down

Made a silly little list

'Bout what I would do

Time

If I had the time.

O and what all would I do

If I had the time?

Be

Sprawl out on the porch

Soak in the warm honeyed light

Breeze stroking my cheek

Read

Curl 'top a cushion

Book in hand my only care

Feline- perfect ease

Pray

Drop down- bended knee

Talking, yes- mostly list'nin

Whisp'rin, "Beautiful"

Steal a Kiss

Press me close to you

Brush impatient lips on yours

Savor the promised

Dance

Swaying, bobbing beat

Royal- ruling this body:

Palm tree in fierce breeze

Laugh

Wee ripple rising

Mirth a spreading thing like weed

Full grown, bursts brilliant

Worship

Emptied hands lifted

Face raised- soakin' in glory

I hear, "You are mine."

Walk the Dog

Only purpose- be

outside, sniff everything, pull

against too short leash

Afternoon Coffee

Sweet bulbous curve of

warm mug weighty on cupped hand

bitter-sweet relief

Hike

Enveloping hush

Broken by sole meeting stone

And deepening breath

Foster

Open door, hands, heart

Sweet refuge and healing place

Welcome here, broken 

Write

Exhale emotion

Paint the past in gilded light

Record what should be

Find the Time

Cease endless running

Demand nothing-important

Be declared vital

Runaway

Today was just one more day in a string
Of days full of responsibilities
Fulfilling expectations, like I should
Checking off obligations one by one
When the ever present niggle,
Little back-brain tickle daydream
Grew up in a hurry.
Fantasy to fascination to fixation.

I want to run away with you.
I need that sweet pleasure of only. Just. Nothing but
You.

'Cause I'm deep down achy bone weary
From forcing myself to focus
On day to day. Mundane. Important. Other than's.
So much energy devoted to not you-ing.

The gaurd over my mouth has been wearing thin.
All those rushing, tumbling hopes.  Desire repressed. Unspoken truths.
Simmering up to my lips.
Let the pot boil over.

My hands are complaining 'bout pressing to my sides.
Restrained behind my back.
Clasped together in my lap
For moral support.
Begging for freedom to roam.
Open pasture.

And, O! O two rebellious lips
Weary with mandatory smiling and lonliness
Are poised to pose into a spoiled pout.
Whispering 'bout mutiny.

Saguaro Blossoms

Whizzing north on the 17
Pandora blasting and the girls and I
screaming along
all tone-deaf enthusiasm 
shouting out the lyrics we know
and mumbling the rest

I've got one hand on the wheel
cruise control set to 79
It's only Spring- late April
and the heat's already
started falling down

on this hellish valley

It lends a little desperation
An anxious urgency
the exhilaration of escape
the thrill of running away
to our adventure up the mountain
towards the cool and the pines

Even the desert is celebrating
right along with us
all that sharp and thorny
gray-green and inhospitable
threatening, intimidating flora
has burst into bloom

We're flying past
saguaro after saguaro
and those fat prickly things
formidable old maids
that nobody could love
are wearing white blooms

Encircling their heads 
like crowns, like wreaths
blossoms grace their outstretched arms
and I realize they're all brides
even the saguaro has her day
to be lovely

To be loved