POEM: the edge of knowing

There is a moment

right before awareness

an innocence poised

at the brink

at the edge

before tumbling over

into the chasm

of knowing

That fleeting second

before plummeting

becomes so precious

only after the fall

in retrospect

If only

that moment

could be so loved

without facing the depths

terrible

POEM: Fix it

I show him, guide him

let him feel the lump

half hoping in some crazy way

that he'll say,

"oh yeah, one of those,

that's no problem, seen it before

easily fixed,"

as if this were another of his areas

of husbandly expertise

just like he would say

if something were wrong

with our car

or my computer

or the bathroom sink

something simple, harmless

that I just didn't happen to know about

in my girlish ignorance

but instead he looks at me

crushed

trying to appear calm

he says, "I love you."

and I am alone again

with my fears

POEM: Changed

My daughter's favorite tree, near blooming

LUMP

coffee brewing, morning make-up

LUMP

hum of computer waking up

LUMP

last week breast in hand, found it

LUMP

nursing the baby, his waiting mouth

LUMP

today will reveal what it is not

LUMP

but no matter what becomes of this

LUMP

I am changed forever by this

LUMP

POEM: Distasteful

It is a distasteful word,

lump

it thuds in your mouth

like a stone

cumbersome, heavy

it stays stuck

and is hard to move beyond

POEM: waking words

poetry doesn't let me sleep

it tickles my dreams

and pricks my tongue

to speak of morning

POEM: snowflakes from my pen

my words

falling like snowflakes

from my pen

catch them on my tongue

the page

before they hit the ground

and melt away

POEM: Final Resume

Cemetery space
speaks more about life
than what lies beneath speaks of death
Each grave unique
tho fundamentally the same
like the divided cubical
in a corporate office maze
personalized
to make the time there more pleasant
less drudgery
more like home

The larger, grander stones
like the coveted corner office
(only no window, no view)
bigger doesn’t always mean better

I guess
not more talented
just more visible
more outspoken
self-promoting

There are tiny stones
some half obscured by overgrown grass
The entry level position perhaps?

But most graves are middle management
the rank and file
each making quiet statements
about who they were or wished to be thought of

There’s a pecking order
organization, structure
even in death
an impenetrable glass ceiling
but no one works their way up that ladder
the final resume on permanent file
a job description carved in stone
Literally!