Up before the sun Car filled to the brim with elbows & knees touching Heads bobbing in sleep Drool soaking shoulders and Feet stepping on bags stuffed In every open space Are we there yet Not quite but soon

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Fire crackles under ebony sky teepee branches fall into flame paper unfurls, turns to ash smoke plumes swirl above us marshmallow fingers chocolate smiles long stories lovely fun

Nine lives to live, a tree’d cat mews; I climb up high to rescue Boots, the calico con artist Cheshire smile peeking through leaf clusters, hiding protracted claws awaiting hands reaching out to scratch me.        

This wound Prevents a cat Love my little green friends But pet plants simply aren’t the same As the soft meows from A warm furrball Plus purrs

Ode to Signs Cancer caused me to take stock of my soul: discover what was missing… Gave myself permission to dream in poetry. See my life in stanzas, rhyming couplets; lyrical love of words. (Cristy Watson, 2021)

Under the Influence   Martin drove me back to the university after a weekend at home. Twenty five miles to a different universe. That’s what I thought then. He parked the Impala and walked me up to my shared room at New Dorms. Want me…

This thing we have is over your once sparkling smile Has grown stale & your laugh is no longer a rainbow in my life’s stormy skies it’s over and soon as I find my shoes I’m gone

  Days of poverty Of vulnerability WANT to pay our way.

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