Because it’s tomorrow she’s promised
his assured oft homeless heart,
sienna brown eyes her truth a whisper
‘Don’t worry, we can work it out.’
It’s not just another chance she offers
a sense of judgement judgement free,
alabaster smooth skin her lips dark hair
her tranquil waters he lies within.
A musician’s ear perfect pitch her voice
coos the lullaby of forgiveness,
the song our mysterious universe sings
her tranquil waters he’ll die within.
for Scout
written April 2013
I struggle to live and breathe when I see,
The love that you have for the broken, sad me.
In spite of my pain, you touch me and say,
I love you, my mom,I’m here,It’s OK.
if only you had what you really need.
Your brother alive and the mom I should be.
Hold my hand, my sweet baby, so I won’t slip away.
There’s part of him in you,and both want me to stay.
Come, comfort me with apples,
or your presence,
perhaps a small smile at night.
Looking towards the edge of the road
I see the small child crying
I want to go to him, comfort him
But there is something restraining me back
I can’t move ahead, not a single inch
I finally ignore the child crying
And move ahead to my predetermined destination.
———–
Did you get it what I’m trying to tell? You would have if you have experienced it…
A shower, that simple daily thing we do
turned into agony for me today.
When stepping out, something went west and threw
me when I headed east. The sun turned gray,
I felt the stab wound searing through, and froze.
Small movements silenced my whole repertoire
and all my poetry turned into prose.
To stand from sitting down elicits war
among my muscles. I’m the battleground.
Their white-hot swords and sabers slit along
my comfort lines, and comfort now has drowned.
No longer do I feel in charge or strong
because ice, pain pills, elevation make
up healing. With my doctor’s rules I will
comply. I’m thankful that it did not break,
but I know for awhile I must lie still.
“If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Romans 12:18)
In this day and age, one would be hard-pressed to find a family that isn't, in some way, touched by the presence of a blended family. I, myself, grew up with a stepfather, and briefly, a stepmother. Technically, I have one full brother, and 3 half-siblings.
