Ailments and Calls

 Just another attempt at communication.

The phone rang once and clicked when I picked up.

A minute later a chirping to announce a video call

I hit audio only.

More ailments,

More reasons why

We can’t get together yet

But we will

Not sure when

Or where

Or what we’ll be able to do.

Let’s talk again.

Need to get

Answers to questions,

Ask new questions,

Research new plans.

Same old people,

Wondering why it takes so long

To connect,

Wondering how to react,

And will the need ever be satisfied.

Calls, texts, emails, and messenger

Relay updates about

Appointments, diagnoses, treatment.

There’s less, more, the same.

Every time the conversation resumes.

More time to wait,

Before committing

Maybe a song in progress

 It feels like a song rather than a poem. Needs a lot more work to transition from written to sung.

Wants to turn this house into a home

Doesn't matter that she lives alone

She’s gonna change it from cold to warm.

Put some photos on the counter

Framed prints hanging on the wall

Family rugs on the cold floor

Living in a city that would rather be a town

Too many outsiders running it down

Locals are always complaining

Just like every place she’s ever been.

It’s one more stop along the way

She knows she’s not going to stay

Planning to enjoy it while she can.

Came here for reasons hard to explain

Nothing bad, not to outrun pain

Just looking for something new, again.

Living in a city that would rather be a town

Too many outsiders running it down

Locals are always complaining

Just like every place she’s ever been.

Too many run down buildings and roads, 

too much judgement, too much crime,

Too much or too little doesn’t matter to her

It’s a temporary stop, it’s short term.

She’s got her memories, got her things,

A list of places she needs to see,

A growing list of where she’s been.

Living in a house that’s becoming a home

Living in a city that wants to be a town

An outsider everywhere she goes,

Just like every place she’s ever been.

Looking for open skies and stars

Looking for coffee shops, not bars

Looking for occasional company

Looking for happiness and peace.

Picture of my mother

Another poem about my mom. I think her presence in my life is more grounding now than when I was younger.

My brother sent a picture to my other brothers and I

from his visit to see Mom.

It looks just like the picture I took several months ago.

A gravestone, grass, and hints of a clear day.

I wonder what they talked about.

I can’t believe their conversation was anything like

the conversation I had with her.

Maybe the part about missing her.

But other than that,

Not much in common.

Son, Daughter,

Different touch points,

Different interests,

Different perspectives on

family, religion, life in general,

Life as promised,

Life as lived.

Same gravestone,

Same setting.

Different plot points,

And different resolutions.

We all miss her.

Pictures help.

Sometimes I hear her voice in my head,

So real, like she is physically near me

It reminds me

who she was,

And explains the core of who I am.

Thursday Musing

 Odd Thursday off, but not a four day weekend. Good opportunity to visit the coffee shop and see what happens.

We’ll see what happens. 

Should I write in verse

Should I write in prose

Should I write truth

Should I write dreams

Should I write my life story

Should I write the stories I see?

So many questions when I sit down

To let the thoughts out of my head.

Decluttering is the new thing

Declutter your space

Declutter your life

Declutter your brain.

Keep what gives you joy

Get rid of what doesn’t.

Limit yourself to what is necessary

Limit yourself

Set limits.

And live with them.

No.

I don’t like limits.

Limits are barriers

To potential

To growth

To happiness.

No limits.

More joy.

Cold fall night

 Night

A book and chair

A bed and blanket,

Inside.

Black sky,

Brightened by stars,

Outside.

Restful and restless,

On a cold fall night,

Following a day of rain,

The clouds have moved on,

Tomorrow the sun should be back. 

For now, it’s raining again,

Even though stars can be seen.

How is that possible?

A light rhythm plays on the roof.

Time to sleep.

Rain and Solitude

 Rain and solitude

Drive through town and turn down the dirt road

Watch out for ruts after rain

The driveway is gravel

And the cabin door is unlocked.

There’s a key but most people don’t use it.

We hope you enjoy your stay.

After a rainy day in the car

The cabin is a welcome sight

But cold.

The rain let’s up

And starts again after dinner

No chance of seeing stars tonight.

The heater warms part of the room

Pillows block the cold air that seems to stream through the closed window.

Mini refrigerator, microwave, bathroom

Enough modern conveniences

To not be roughing it.

Trail maps on the table

Stains on the carpet

A brown towel with a note,

“Towel for wet muddy shoes!”

Time to plan tomorrow’s adventure,

And move on from the adventure of getting here.

There are always new adventures 

Replacing the old ones.