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Ink in the Blood Posts

Resilient

Resilient

the sun

gold on the ground

bright in the sky

winking in water

dancing in leaves

showing the rain

the way the wind moves

… on

and through

TL

Potomac

they used to

look up

at the sky

and follow

the plane

out of sight

they used to

look out

across the water

watching waves

soothed by the sound

they used to

look up

at the fireworks

on the Fourth of July

and be amazed

they used to

look forward

to January 1

when the New Year

meant a new year

they used to

look at

real roses

and think of

Valentine’s

Day

but not today

in the collective

consciousness

a quiet prayer

that by and by

you’ll see more than rain

falling

you’ll see the birds

take flight

and the butterflies

land

and the rainbows

appear

and when you look out

across the silent sea

you’ll see the diamonds

shining free

and feel the wind

within the waves

reaching out

and on the coldest

night of nights

may all the stars

be extra bright

and when you see

a rose

may you see

a rose

and know

it’s real

TL

Love

the kiss

of first snow

you barely even

feel it

it’s a miracle

it’s even here

but from a distant place

above

the ground looked up

and prayed

and a million years went by

and by

and the stars

that no one ever sees

broke way

away

from the night

and floated down

past the sun

a glitter of powder

on the ground

covering all the holes

all the dirt

all the puddles

all the leaves

all the seeds

and without a word

the snow melted

into the ground

and all was green again

as if it always was

just a field

of emerald green

without a trace

of glitter in the air

like a snowflake

that never was

but a rose

knows different

as it looks up

from the ground

and unfolds itself

to see the stars

break way

TL

What’s Within

What’s Within

:

in a drop

of rain

the memory of

a tsunami

a city at the bottom of the sea

:

in a breath

of wind

the memory of

a tornado

a city ripped apart

and the morning after

:

in the light of a cake candle

the memory of

a wildfire

a city lost in ember

at the edge of an ocean

on the brink

of a new year

:

in the heart

of humanity

the will

to re-build

TL

Saturation

Saturation

on the out

side

I seem to be

fine

I guess

but everyone

seems to be

fine

I guess

when they’re going

through it

whatever it

is

I feel saturated

in sadness

it may be an age thing

for sure

when my dad died

I was still young

but that was the beginning

of endings

and it just feels like

the end of beginnings

now

I suppose this is the time

to try

something new

and unplanned

to immerse myself into

something

anything

other than blue

I’d like to be green again

like spring

a leaf in the sun

but this is

indeed

a landscape of stick trees

the winter of my life

baring down

the acceptance of things

so many things

last night

the cat and the dog

trudged together

down the hall

and slept in her room

they know

they jest know

that even though

she’s not there

she’s there

TL

Granny

Granny

mourned you

the moment

we met

the first time

i heard you

laugh

and i knew

right then and there

i’d never laugh

like that

again

i knew i was

in trouble

‘cause i knew

i loved you

more

than i let myself

allow

and knowing this

full well

i fell back a bit

a time or two

to put some space

between us

so maybe then

i could survive

the day

the dreaded day

you’d go on

and fly away …

TL

Your Life

Your Life

freedom is

in realizing

what you already have

within

was born at birth

and that was

more

than enough …

everything else

then

will be but

a bonus

TL

The Change of Time

clouds are moving

across the eye

it’ll rain soon

on a Sunday

in August

September

October

November

December

January

February

March

April

May

June

July

August

the funeral was

what it was

i never left

beneath the shade

of an old magnolia

the snow fell

that year

a peek of pastel

beneath the leaves

mixed with tinsel

and tea

the spit of watermelon seeds

a trace of wheels in the dirt

the imprint of soles on grass

heavy now

the sound of sirens

in the distance

the crickets at night

the static of the TV

timer’s going off

phone’s ringing

the sliding doors opening

and closing

like the oven

dishes dropping in the sink

loading and unloading

the wash

and it’s Christmas already

Thanksgiving next week

the New Year nearly

then it’s Easter again

somebody’s birthday

the one in August

when the clocks fell back

an hour

less light

in a day

TL

Dear Granny,

Dear Granny,

Saturday

on the way

to that big box store

you loved to frequent

glimpsed a bunch of

stuff

to the right

on a street

lined with houses

and just like that

you were riding shotgun

telling me quick turn around

i told you – no – you know

that’s not a good idea

you laughed

and i cried

it was all of $30 bucks

for a small blue table

that i’d put on the porch

for a plant

and a child’s wooden chair

that was perfect for a puppet

and the basket had a lid

that could be used for a picnic

or storage

and the bag of paperbacks

i know jest who to give that

to

and the pink beaded earrings

were just because

like the sparkly pin

and the painting

you ended up riding along

to the store, too

Christmas in October

they got all the stuff out

already

i told you – no – you know

that’s not a good idea

you laughed

and i cried

a buggy later

we drove to

the craft store

and left with a Lemax

house

already decked out

for Christmas

a granny sitting in the window

waiting

for the little kids outside

to barrel through

the door

TL

Grief

the glass shine

of the water

shimmers in the night

a boat goes by

then it’s gone

the tracks cut the water

leaving a long trail

behind

TL

Empty

Empty

i sit

in my car

in the drive

way

and listen

to the wind

it’s September

the falling of leaves

and the drying of grass

and there’s no rush

to go inside

life will never be

the same

i fear i won’t

adjust

TL

In the Frame

i keep

searching

for a way

out

picking things up

and putting them down

rummaging through the mess

looking for a clue

the map is not on paper

life has a pattern to it

or does it

think you only get to know

so much

then it’s a

blur

the mind is a mystery

that holds the heart

she sketched the roses

and put them in a vase

and colored them red

and the stems green

and placed ‘em on a table

in a room with a window

where she colored the sunlight

yellow

the beams flooded the room

reaching out toward the roses

but she forgot to put water

in the vase

or did she

for water is clear

and the roses

after all these years

are as rosy red

as the day she thought them up

and put them on paper

and handed them over

for me to keep

and i can hear her now

laughing

and running around

“of course i put water in the vase …

can’t you see it – it’s right there”

i nod my head

yes

i can see it

now

TL

Time-less

i tell

my

self

i won’t be

sad

but been

this is different

than death

i know death

when dad died

it was sudden sorrow

that shatters you

in a second

when Granny the Great died

three Sundays ago

it was childlike sorrow

that changes the ground

you walk on

this is not like

that

this is sitting in sorrow

in a heightened sense

of loss

where time is

time-less

all the words

go back

into the alphabet

letters in a line

all the numbers

go back

to 1

there’s a voice

that talks

and a voice

that listens

taking it all in

in a heightened sense

of wonder

the bundled baby

is aware of the world

the world within a world

constantly changing form

a mirrored self

from this

to that

to else

when it rains

where does it go

you look up

then down

were it not for rain

where would we be

but a seed

asleep

that never knew

the sun

TL

Clouds

hung the clouds

high on the line

and wrung ‘em up tight

twisting

both day

and night

‘til the drops

no longer

fell to ground

and the wind

blew through

like whitecaps

over the blue

TL

Dorothy

she was

running through a field

of red poppies

but got really-really-really tired

somewhere

along the way

and had to stop

and catch her breath

and put her hand up

to her head

she turned to the Scarecrow

and told him

that she just needed to lie down

and rest

for a bit

she was just too sleepy

to go on

she called out for Toto

as she staggered

and fell

into the flowers

but the Scarecrow refused

to let her go

and give up

so easily

he kept pulling her along

for they had come

so far

been through so much

together

and they were nearly almost there

they could see Emerald City

shining like the sun

in the distance

the road of gold just ahead

they were so close

they could feel it

and yet so far

away

the Tinman began to cry

weeping loudly

as the Lion yawned

and agreed that a nap

sounded really good

right about now

the weeping Tinman yelled out for HELP

but the Scarecrow scolded

and told him it was useless

nobody would hear him

but then abruptly he changed his mind

and joined the Tinman

yelling out HELP HELP HELP

and from her magical-mystical-memory-place

Glinda the Good Witch heard

their cries

and gently waved her magic wand

and sent them snow

the Scarecrow was so thankful

thinking maybe it would help

and it did

Dorothy began to open her eyes

and slowly wake back up

Toto did, too

then the Lion stretched and yawned

and woke up

as the Tinman stood still stuck

in rust

when Dorothy saw that

she rushed on over to him

with the oil can

and fixed him up

good as new

they celebrated and cheered and laughed together

dancing round and round

then arm-in-arm

they skipped through the snow

in a field of red poppies

and touched down

upon the road of gold

Dorothy’s ruby-red-slippers

sparkled and shined and shown

as they made their way

to The-Great-All-Knowing-Wonderful-Wizard-of-Oz

who would grant them all

their heartfelt-bottom-of-the-well-wishes

and then some

for as they say

all along

the broken brick road …

TL

Emerald City

at the breath

of birth

it draws its last

in sleep

what dreams

in infancy

the essence

of infinity

heavy roses

in the rain

dried between the pages

of a well-worn book

yellow paint on a brick road

it’s snowing

in a field of red poppies

there Dorothy lies

asleep

her beauty preserved

beneath the globe

of snow

a twist and turn of the dial

winds back the clock

as the music plays

its lilting lullaby

a field of red poppies

swaying in the wind

TL

(written for Granny August 10, 2024)

The Color of Clouds

The Color of Clouds

it’s morning

before the sun

the mist creeps along

quietlike

mindful of the water

it disappears

like a cloud

like smoke

long gone

it’s early July

watched the fireworks

up in the sky

without watching them

you’re in the bed

unable to move

nothing but smoke

now

is this how it ends

after 88 summers

in the sun

i don’t understand

a thing about anything

anymore

TL

Not Done

Not Done

one

thing

at

a

time

that’s what

i keep telling myself

one

thing

at

a

time

the-year-long-exhausting-heartbreak-process

of selling a business

done

14 years of her schooling

done

a place by the water

done

his hernia surgery

(that we keep putting off)

not done

finding her a safe place to live

not done

coming to terms with her leaving

not done

coming to terms with Granny’s rapid decline

not done

what to do with the house

sell it

keep it

renovate it

rent it

sell it

keep it

build again

buy new

what to do …

yeah, so not done

figuring out the next chapter

of our lives

not done

but yesterday

a small change

went and saw

that Chandu Champion movie been wanting to see

since the trailer

but kept putting it off

and almost didn’t make it

yesterday

was gonna put it off

but decided last minute

to make it a priority

such a small thing

and yet it wasn’t

such a powerful true story

about the human spirit

like all the great sports movies

that were ever made

it wasn’t about the sport

at all

it was about the heart

you gotta have

you gotta have a Lion’s heart

when darkness descends

and it’s hard to find your way

out

want them to go see it

today or tomorrow

‘cause Friday it’s gone

and it’s not the same

on a tube

gotta see it the way it was intended

but talking them into going

will be a hard sell

‘cause it’s not in English

based in India with subtitles

and there’s a singing part they could have left off

but other than that

well worth it

they need to go see it

today

and not put it off

such a small thing

but it’s not …

Not Done

TL

Microchip

Microchip

he built

the board

from a fragment

layer upon layer upon layer

like a bricklayer

‘til it rose

like a tower

casting a big shadow

on his life

he kept his head down

micro meticulous

he never stopped

long enough

to enjoy the view

from the top of the tower

he only saw

the Work

he would not

he could not

rest

whether a mountain trail

or an ocean view

at night in his recliner

or on his side of the bed

his mind

was still micro

like a winding clock

that would not stop turning

he took every call

checked every email

responded to every text

it was automatic

and timely

he liked being the man

who could fix all the problems

in a tech world

a troubleshooter

who could walk into any building

and lay out a plan

that would light up all the circuits

and have the place humming

in no time

he could remember every password

every code

every module

he spoke a language

encoded

in numbers

flying over the keys

call after call after call

he grew weary

over time

with worry

simple solutions

became more and more complex

within the distance

between his two ears

no matter how successful

he became

it was never

enough

he woke up one day

and decided to put his tower

on the auction block

he’d had enough

and sold it to the highest bidder

but things didn’t go

quite to plan

his tower was supposed

to stand

without him

there

he had set it up

to do just that

but it crumbled

under new ownership

right in front of his face

and there was nothing

he could do about it

but watch it

F

A

L

L

into a cloud of dust

it killed him

all the work

all the sacrifice

all the years of building

something

from nothing

g o n e

the micro in his mind

blinked

on and off

wracked with guilt

he won’t give himself a break

his view different now

he can see things

he couldn’t see then

like divorce does

it gives you perspective

he feels lost

in regret

and memory

there’s nothing to say

that hasn’t been said

each being has to find

their own way

back to themselves

it’s a different type of work

required

a different lens

a different approach

a different way

of being

some people refuse

to do the work

within

and nothing changes

for them

and they stay

as they are

‘til the day

they die

but some people

find a way

within

and continue

to grow

like a garden

well-tended

no matter the season

or the soil

“when you leave something behind …

you gain something, too …” – from the movie: Past Lives

TL

(written June 13, 2024, in my jeep at the park)