Victimless Crime?
The worst thing has happened of all our fears
Our little one, our child, has disappeared.
She was safe and secure, and tucked away,
home from middle school one September day,
alone–yet she truly wished to belong,
but now she’s gone, what could have gone so wrong?
She knows don’t open the door to strangers
and can use her cell phone if in danger.
Has she found someone seeking to groom her,
An older “friend” to whom she can defer,
or at fourteen, perhaps budding romance–
a Cinderella, once a lifetime chance?
We’ve called the cops, so perhaps in due time,
they might solve a so-called “victimless crime”.
hour 5: a morning full of thanks
There’s a hummingbird in the flowers and a grasshopper on the back of the pool deck chair
I’ve tried to circumvent my feelings by breathing precisely when in reality, it all belongs to the Divine
Why, oh why, do I hide?
There’s a happy dog on the couch with a toy in its mouth
and I’m eating a yogurt, hiding less
Step-mother starts to clean while I write and I’m
remembering
Hour four prompt on marriage “Attempted”
Tried yet troubled
pyramids and promises
sanctioned security that wasn’t
like bells unrung
songs unsung
standing alone
again.
2023 #5 Who? What? When? Where? Why?
Short?
Maybe.
Brown hair, probably.
Eyes, green likely.
Clothing?
Most definitely.
Shoes black,
might be gray.
Someone familiar?
Possibly.
Close friend?
Almost certainly.
Something dangerous?
Could have been.
Bad, or illegal?
Absolutely not.
Anyone hurt?
Surely yes.
Dead?
Literally or metaphorically?
Literally?
No.
Today?
Yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
All the time?
Not all, but some.
At home?
Often.
Outside?
Frequently.
Anywhere else?
Within.
Motive?
Unsure.
Excuses?
None that come to mind.
What a mystery.
Hour 5; Whodunit
The verdict was clear, “Hang until death”
Every face lit up with vengeance,” “This heartless witch deserves death!”
But I knew she was the kindest, the noblest
There was no proof except for my lingering belief in her
They led her away, she did not even flinch
But she turned back just once, and gave me such a smile
That left me in no doubt that she knew
“She knows, she knows,”
I muttered to myself; she knew all along
I wondered why then did she walk to her death, with her eyes open
“Because, I love you with my eyes closed!”
The wind carried her gentle voice to me…
What Does it Mean
“What Does It Mean”
life’s sweet mystery
has me wondering
these shapes we see
in the clouds
billowing by
what does it mean
the synchronic numerology
butterfly in a bush
birds fluttering, amongst the trees
the beauty of the present
life’s precious gift
leaves me pondering
the feather, upon the ground
lyrics, speaking to your soul
life’s lessons
has me judging
if my mind is sound
BAGGAGES (hour v)
The crowd gather at
the center of the city
Their means are stolen
There is a suspect
walking through the gaping crowd
Something is stolen
There is a suspect
guilty until Judges prove
innocent and clear
Bags of gold litter
street sides, baggages roll over
More stuff are stolen
Searchlights beam, more lights
The suspect is the lone thief
buying handshakes hard
It’s arresting time
Then the thief steals himself, and
baggages grow heads
*Inspired by the text prompt.
Prompt 5 – Mystery Poem
Prompt 6 – A mystery poem
Where was I?
I was running
my cold frosty breath
still in front of me,
bark breaking
leaves rustling
under fast feet,
my heart races too
I focus forward
never looking back,
the sweat running
as hard as I am
please God please,
complete darkness arrives,
then I open my eyes.
Wait. I’m in bed?
Hour Five: Sara’s Tears
Sara shed no tears
as she stepped around the body
slumped in the rolling chair
to pull the knife buried deep
out of the head
and rinse it in water so hot
it dropped
from her hands
before scrubbing vigorously
with a heavy-duty scrubbing sponge
before putting it in the dishwasher
along with the breakfast dishes
before she rolled the chair to the car
and drove it to the drop off
to push it over the cliff
and watch it burn
before she biked home
to bleach the blood from the floor
and scrub at the stains with a strong brush
and rinse with boiling water
and dry with old rags
before taking the rags
to the neighbors’ trash can
that would be picked up
at 7 am tomorrow
before she thanked God
the floor was white linoleum
and not tile with cracks
where – something –
might fall in
as she huddled on the sofa
holding her 10-year-old
who had learned long ago
to fear the fall of his own tears
who whispered, “Sorry, Mom.”
as they waited for the sunrise
before calling Missing Persons
Sara shed her tears
for him