She Needs Someone

She, luckily,
has herself—
sometimes

faltering,

mostly
strident
and quietly
bold,
but she
is lonely
in the city
of millions.

She walks
her own path
in a motley
mash of
people
all vying for
the same
sweet moment
in the sun,
to cross the
street
before
the light
changes.

The relentless
bustle
excites
and depletes –
they are massive
and she is
one girl
strong,
but
sometimes
wavering
in the
stormy city.

Desert American Dream 3/18/07

Joshua Trees 
ancient spirits 
spikey leaves 
sharp enough 
tough enough 
to cut, 
stark beauty. 
Jack Rabbit scat 
nestled bed 
under the wild junipers, 
silver dry thorn bushes, 
the feel of sandy soil under my feet—
yet the blue, dry sky 
cool in spring.
Sweet breeze 
swirls upon 
my thank you 
for this gift-- 
the solemn quiet 
just is as it needs to be – 
the power to wash 
a static rippled spirit 
clear and calm again.

Photo by Kindel Media from Pexels

In the Lone World

We travel

a stranger

to

our self -

disguised

as someone

who knows,

we grasp

at a story,

find

solace

in that

weakness

as we

look

busy,

as we

look away.

Her Voice Broke

Tears over the phone

obscuring

the words,

but not the

emotion,

she read

her poem

about

her grandmother—

five years calling

Pain!

Falling

on the

floor

then two weeks

to the end

when morphine

dreams

and real pain

became inner love

and outer

reaching.

She cried,

“I didn’t cry

when I

wrote

this.

I don’t

Know

Why

I’m

crying

now…”

Except

it all

made

perfect

sense

and the living

we feel

finds its

expression

in

moments

surprising,

clear,

yet undefined

and

free,

however

harrowing

our hearts

expand

and

contract.