The alien

For months you were an alien inside me

unfurling and moving of your own accord

indifferent to the space you'd invaded

taking over as though it were 
your kidney to recline upon

your lungs to kick

your stomach to raid

expanding as though 
into the eternal

heedless of the limits of time...

or space 
-my space-

And you dwelt there

all at once 
mine

and not mine

in the sacred dark of my womb

Until the day arrived

-was it really so many years ago?-

that it was time to awaken unto the world

to find your humanness

You were wrinkled and pink

bent and battered

a Mr MaGoo face

angelic to a new mother's embattled gaze

At first it seemed you still belonged there

in the warm cocoon of my center

I held your smallness and recall

that strange oneness

Yet quickly you gain your foreignness

your otherness

You roll away from me

so that you can crawl off

and walk into the next room

and run outside

and peddle to your friend's home

where you will get in a car and drive off to meet your friends
and steal your first kiss in the backseat of your new car

then fly off to see the world

In a blink of an eye you are an alien outside of me

with a life that has little to do with me

Yet still you are the alien

whose nose I blew

whose vomit I washed off myself

that I held in the dark nights in the hospital

that I fretted over when the oxygen wouldn't flow

that I frowned at when your words were too cheeky

whose grades I fussed over each report card

that I yelled at when you sauntered in late

that I love

Ode to Fall

Delicately dancing in, the fall began with colors splashed about like a child had spilled bits of paint.

 

One can almost imagine the imp dancing about, a bucket in one hand and paint brush in another. While bending over to quietly paint a leaf at the top of the tree, turning to and fro, angling this way and that, the bucket wobbles and bobbles, tips and tilts, and with each jolt a dollop of paint slops over the edge of the pot and onto the nearest leaf so that soona leaf here, a limb there, reds and ambers, gold, mustard and maize begin to appear amidst the lush green growth that have been with us for for the breath of a time called spring and summer.

 

 The days are yet temperate and we take advantage of the lingering sunlight for lengthy walks. 

Ruminations on Freedom Day & I had to open my Big FAT Mouth

Freedom Day

Five years ago yesterday was the anniversary of the signing of papers that ended my marriage of eighteen years. For some it might represent promises broken, a stage in life filled with happiness, fond memories, and love, ending. Without going into too many details let me simply say, that this was not the case for me. My marriage had begun as union of obligation and duty and had probably never really altered much beyond that in eighteen years. So I celebrate it-- not because it was the day of any actual freedom but as a symbol of something that actually began some years before...

walking bones

It was a creature from the past come to life, parading in front of the museum as though he'd escaped without consequence. The little boy clung to his mother's hand, uncertain of what to think of the monster without skin, and by the look on his face I was certain he thought he should flee while he had the chance. But he stood his ground and stared into the eyes without socket and gazed at the skeleton waggling in front of him, a certain thrill at the idea that he might be eaten at any moment. After all, if he were gobbled up by the monstrous jaws, he could probably escape through the hollow neck or past the bare ribs.