My  Slippers



The buzzing at AM to coax my mind. 

Coffee grounds are brewing, shower steaming hot,

Iron smoothing shirt sleeves, stockings rolling up. 

Out the door with car keys just in time. 



Punch the ticking time clock, heave a sigh.

Telephone keep ringing, people waiting, words to type,

Sorting through confusion, taking care to get it right. 

Counting down the hours strangling by. 



Frantic frenzy to get done and leave. 

Run to get the mail in, papers sorted, typing done,

One last confirmation call, down the hall I run, 

With shopping list and purse and coat and keys. 



Forever at the red light, stop and wait. 

Back and forth throughout the store, up and down each isle,

Boxes, bags and bagels, on forever and a mile.

Write the check, load up the car or I’ll be late. 



Again the light is red and here I stay. 

Grab the kids, she gets the front, dragging home with all this stuff,

Get inside, to kitchen schlep, clean and cook, Hey! That’s enough!

And all the while listening to their day. 



Clear the table, homework I must see.

Lunch was gross, one sneaker’s lost, she has a note I dread,

Pick out your clothes, brush your teeth, kiss and tuck in bed

And all day long my slippers wait for me. 







Cricks



I like it when

The crickets crick.

The cool night simply sighs to me. 

In stillness lies my love, my love.

Near to me, so near to me.

Tips-touch-tip in sleep,

Breathe deep.

The night hush-hushes 

And smells so sweet.

My slumber slows,

And silence grows

Yet still the crickets crick.



graphic: Mother Light,


watercolor, Vera Jones



April,  6:20 A.M.



Under dark skyline of spring,

frogs splash among dewy, webbed reeds.

Compose an open opera on the breeze.

A rainy storm throbs down.

Dancing, prancing, sobs down.



A new desire forms in my shimmery garden.

Summer dances in the dormant dirt.

Soundless symphony of moist black earth.



I listen to steam stroking leaves, 

fogging through thorns.

Smoggy sticks and trickle twigs,

dripping dewy diamonds down.

The rhythm of pond.

A peaceful pulse which will sooth me.