The Poetry Marathon

All my lovers were worth it

Even when I cried and tried

To understand why they left

Or stopped being kind

I had them each at their best

And most wonderful as they

Were full of pride and beauty

I was their proven prize

In our closeness I became wise

To their true soul while

Their bitterness grew

For being revealed

I would be discarded as an

Old mirror reflecting

An imperfect vision

They let me leave with relief

Staring in to the mirror now

I am able to see fragments

Of that girl they had won

Able to smile with memories

Soles of rubber

Able to make waffles

Should one walk across

A layer of batter then

Dip just enough on to a

Hot cast iron pan

A day’s work in stompers

Presents at home in the kitchen

Leaving small squares of

Soil molded in patterns

Sweeping the floor

Becomes a meditation

High work boots

Laces tied almost to the top

Then wrapped around

ankles for support

Left in the mudroom

Brought into service at morning

Useful beyond the job

Once retired an object

To be considered as art

For Alaskans no better planter

Can be found holding

Bright greens and yellows

After he was gone

She kept them in the barn

Painted splattered mismatched laces

The occasional hole in leather

Looking at them was enough

Her soul waited for the flowers

Old raisins

need a cookie to

lie in and rest

Silly spiders

spin in small spaces

to catch tiny bugs

Barefoot toes

find round pebbles

with a loud ouch

Old boys roll back

in recliners and

sleep to the game

Grieving arms

hold old clothes

to feel a past love

Round clocks on the shelf

tick tock ‘til

they stop

Millie, my Boston, smiles through her black mask
White patterns rest next to her latte no sugar coat
Not a black and white pup she confuses folks who walk by
A small Boxer they suggest as I correct them with Boston

When she’s older she may try to pass at doggie daycare
Oh yes, a Boxer, she will boast, women’s lib and all
The older dogs will allow her nervous fib
The puppies will sniff in awe as Boxers are few

A Pandemic Pup knows little of the before
There is a generation of these life savers
Someone to talk to and cuddle and hug mask-less
Though she reminds me that her mask is here to stay

1 favorite color

1 favorite color

new soft green gently nods
food is old and risky

picture window displays
our mother’s green rebirth

green offers infinity
artists struggle to find

as wounds go wrong green
whispers death still waits

aging me sorts crayons
always looking for my shade

blue sky smiles a yellow sun
helping creatures find

green hope and redemption

Now that this is over

Now that I am done

There are no more excuses

The Marathon I’ve run

Time to stop the snacking

Eating junky foods

My body feels the sugar

And says that it’s no good

There’s still a piece of candy

And several ice cream pops

Some crunchy chips and salsa

Caffeine so I won’t stop

I left alone the Cabernet

Didn’t have a drink

I knew the danger it could cause

Making me not think

It’s time to put away this task

Return to life that’s here

This evening I will eat some kale

And certainly have a beer

Thank you all for listening

I wish you love and peace

Let’s keep the good vibes going

Pray all the pain will cease

Hoping for a summer storm

A long slow day at home

No one needs to hear my voice

They know I wrote some poems

Old movies perhaps a few

I need another place

Take a break some time off

From this crazy human race

Travel with some music

To lead me down a path

Show me somewhere better

Beyond this pain and wrath

Refresh my brain my heart

That poems have lighted high

To keep this good vibe going

I can only hope and try

Sky is dark the air is thick

A change will come by night

The Gods will try once again

To help us get it right

There is no silence

Try it in the morning

Listen to no traffic

Voices unspoken

Cars and trucks parked

Dogs still slumbering

Humans wanting five minutes

Do  you hear nothing

Up by your ears there is

Sound coming from somewhere

Inside your head perhaps

Or from morning empty spaces

Layers of sound begin

To create the noisy day

Until deep in darkness

The world sighs with a hush

Dreaming puppies running

To new imagined places

Yelping with shaking paws

Remembering a life before

Perhaps seeing what’s to be

Puppies courageous in sleep

Legs held straight and high

Vulnerable in another world

Showing trust finally at home

Morning grass is damp

Small violets refreshed

Yellow buttercups revived

Waiting roots are relieved

Leaves hang low before

Sun can wipe the dew

Then will rise in time

Reaching for daylight

Silence in between

Before it all begins again

Do violets and buttercups

Wonder why they’re here