Wrightings

through fingers  life’s vestiges rubbed away 

Coffee should be rich and black  cars and homes quite clean  seams should be finger pressed  pillows should be fluffed just so  steaks pink and lean yellow crested birds like poems without rhythm or rhyme exist to preen and children unheard if seen  may seem rather mean  but these are things I know are right  for a snob that I have been 

Rose amongst the thorns, your decisions  Guide justice for future generations to  Build the democratic foundation of equality

It was a Tuesday  but it felt like a Friday  the week came to a close as the world shut down. Shock, fear, and disbelief  swirled into suspicion, anger, despair.  The dust would not settle. No child could breathe. Parents held them tight told them things would be alright and plotted revenge.

For everything there is a reason  Sundancer carried us to adventures  cradled us through hurricane force winds ice storms and blizzards  for everything a purpose protected us from bear allowed us to grow as a couple taught us to work together  and a season; Sundancer let us camp, live, and travel meeting life long friends find our a new place to call home now time for another family another life  with teenagers and grandparents

Full moon rises amber upon golden augmentations of the night Autumnal ascent, Fire enters navy blue of night Umber, ruby, amethyst, against marcasite Colors captured in skies of day and night Turquoise, carnelian, onyx, silver fetishes call Desert jewelry for sale at a empty roadside stand at night Stars glow in shattered shadowed escalations The hills backdrop plains like curtains at night Yellow and red flowering fruit upon fishhook barrels along desert washes under full moon long shadowed night

The shrillness of the stillness is sickening to the quickening, distancing from the potential of the dilemma of influenza, no corona like lymphoma or pneumonia symptoms for me. Covid novel eroded misquoted twaddle this systemic epidemic Is pandemic. The virus like phthirus affects our gyrus. So, in our lockdown don’t break down instead let’s take down the virus in isolation and filtration for the duration. * this poem first appeared @ Pendemic.ie

A voice echos in my head a heavenly choral refrain chanting words from a poem not yet written. Marcel is a soft spring scent an escaped ethnic flavor of San Jose and I am an essential worker in these dire days. Echoing despair singing bitterness emojis might suffice in the retell but that’s not what poetry is for. So, when the cat gets your tongue don’t let it eat your lunch. Fleeting friendship of ideas rear their ugly heads in anonymity in yet another circle I am free from that which holds me. The door has sprung and exit is allowed out of the choir’s chapel.