Fever crept in

Day 24


fever crept in
while I sat at my desk
the not so subtle reminder
my body will fail me
in spite of my will
to avoid
finish out the day
it is all I can do
still feeling guilty
for not being able
to work longer
I slept in the chair
when I arrived home
food a dare I could not face
I forgot to turn on
the lights before closing my eyes
the sun has set
without me knowing
plunging the room
into darkness
the fever brings unwelcome friends
the body rebels
and succumbs
I move in so few places
I know where I found it first
not that it matters
sickness is isolating
like the weather
it will pass
I will be lighter for it
in the meantime
I let go
hoping for the morning
to be gentle
and kind


Coming home

Day 23


coming home
we did not meet here
at the corner
waiting for the light
to turn
caught up in the rush
to return home
after a long work day
bumper to bumper
the bus pulls
to the curb
one empty seat
becomes home
for twenty minutes
horn blares
the driver yells
not seeing the flashing lights
in front
the hurry to beat the bus
blinded him
it’s how people die
in this city
because someone can’t see
they are sitting in the same boat
watching the struggle
to bail out the water
filling the end with the holes
I pull the cord for my stop
finish the hour
by making tea
and listening
to day stories told
to me by offspring
then at long last
I will lay in the darkness
and listen
to the night breathe


deep rest

Day 21

deep rest
found me
alone after
the room emptied
taking heart pieces

deep rest
found me
alone after
being told
I could not mourn
or remember
like turning off
the tap

deep rest
found me
not pretty enough
not slim enough
not nice enough
not smart enough
never enough

deep rest
found me
in the folds
of being
turned me
kept me
like a familiar
my spirit is tired
from walking
my soul’s estate
feet cut, bleeding
torn by bramble
and rose thorn
seeking shade
from the mid-day sun
worn down like stone
in the river’s path

deep rest
found me
let my tears flow
let my heart mend
let my body heal
let my soul be
until I can breathe
until I can be



eight spoons

Day 19

eight spoons
measure my day
at one time I had more
ten or eleven
twenty when I was younger
but today eight spoons
sit in my coffee mug
sometimes filled with sugar
whatever sweetness
I need to curb the harsh bitter now
when the world becomes
too much
after months
and months
of pushing through
in spite of everything else
in spite knowing it doesn’t
matter or make the difference
I want it to
One day
I will wake up
one day
and there will be
no spoons left

I write to you in deep night

Day 17

I write to you in deep night
While rain falls
I wait for sleep to steal me
But I have been awake for years
I hear more clearly in darkness
Sitting with the sky

Later a storm will rattle the window
Thunder will shake the building
Before passing
Morning will come
dressed in last night’s dreams
I will remember them
Over coffee

I will write about
what I dont want to write about
Until it strangles me
Pulls me inside out
And leaves breathless
On the floor

I will write myself
Into life
As dawn spreads wings
And smiles to reveal
The azure sky

I will write to you in deep night
Words you may never read
But somehow
I hope you feel them
As I do
Like a walk through
My soul’s estate



To set it right

Day 16

to set it right
on the balance
ice to the jaw
after the punch
hidden bruises
no voice left
in the shadows
I tried to use it
more than once
my voice
as quiet as it is
is loud
are not
and yes
I have listened
almost fifty
in spite
of appearances


Looking backwards

Day 15

looking backwards
in the bathroom mirror
trying to see the part of me
I cannot see
a photograph blurred
three bulbs gone
leaving just enough
for hair brushing
and nothing more
night has wrapped itself
around the building
the last light of the sun
long gone
no one awake
that I can ask for help
no hand held mirror
to turn
in passing
I am not sure
what I am looking for
forgiveness perhaps
or understanding
or clarity
or the comfort of darkness