Sit in the right here
A place that’s never been and
Will never again
Long for tomorrow
Recall fondly yesterday
Be still for today
The world unfolds yet
Time constraints define these lives
These beautiful lives
Today Songs
Category: Poetry
Summer Evening on the Back Porch
Chris Stapleton on the radio, singing about Tennessee whisky
While I’m drinking Merlot and dancing with the cat
She’s not much of a two-stepper, but she sure likes to waltz
Although, waltzes make me cry now—the boy who taught me one, two, three, one, two, three
Spinning me around the dance floor is gone, too soon, we were not worthy of his grace.
Do you think Roy waltzes in heaven? Twirling angels ‘til they’re giggling and giddy?
If heaven has a dance floor, he’s made it his own. Pop a top and watch him go.
Romance
One touch, lingering
One kiss, unforgettable
One night of passion
I forget to breathe
My whole world wraps around you
When you’re near, time stops
For one sweet moment
Our lips meet, our bodies join
And I am deemed healed
Peace, people!
Dancing Alone
Always the tallest
Last one picked as a partner
A true wallflower
No one was unkind
The sad faces, exhaled sighs
Though, told the story
I so loved to dance
Had rhythm enough to spare
Oh, to be chosen
Drinking and Dancing
A day, one minute
They’re both the same without you
Time shuffles along
One beer becomes three
Each sip brings a memory
Sure wish you were here
I dance alone some
Waltzing around the kitchen
Clutching a shadow
To Shirl
She walks the beach in my mind
Drinks champagne in her garden café
Runs down mountains with abandon
A woo-er of men
A champion of women
Her words are etched in my mind
I thank the universe for her.
Tight Writing
Words packed together
Like so many canned sardines
Every image counts
I ramble ‘round, though
A hop scotching, dream seeker
Angling for a point
Compare and contrast
The tight writer and the mess
Focused or fuddled
I haven’t said anything
George Floyd was murdered in broad daylight by an officer of the law with witnesses standing near, yet I haven’t said anything here.
People are protesting in the streets, still I’ve stayed home, safe in my little world, pleading age and fear of contracting a virus.
Friends are hurting, at each other’s throats, but I’ve not written a word. That’s my privilege and my shame.
Instead, I’m listening. Learning. Taking notes. My whiteness is my shield and my weakness in matters of color.
I know this, though, black lives matter, and even if I don’t know what else to do or say. I’ll keep saying those three words.
Black Lives Matter.
The War Effort
We’ve been told we are at war
With a virus, an invisible enemy
But our nominal president
Plays golf and tweets erratically
Swatting at Titleists
Swearing at journalists
Embarrassing most of us
While one hundred thousand Americans
Lay dead,
And it’s not yet June.
For Jim
Oh, Jim,
When I close my eyes, I see your face,
I hear your voice, those words of wry wisdom and gentle humor.
For months I’ve known this day would come, still the news of your passing caught me off guard,
Hit me right in the heart.
Knocked me off my feet.
You were our leader. The one who made the exaggerated gesture—feet off the pegs, legs askew—while riding your motorcycle, making me laugh,
Even as I negotiated the curves on the Blue Ridge Parkway.
You never pushed me to ride over my head, simply let me ride my own pace.
Oh, how I’ll miss you.
Dear Jim,
I hope you’ll sing karaoke in heaven.
Praying for Eyebrowz 