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Month: September 2021

A Drop of Reflection

A Drop of Reflection

she doesn’t

know it

or maybe she does

she’s more sensitive

than she shows

feeling things deeper

than she lets on

so maybe she does know

known all along

that she’s given me

a second chance

in life

a-sort-of-do-over-type-thing

where I get to experience

growing up again

the way i wished it’d been

through her eyes

I can see

what i needed the most

what i wanted the most

as her mother

as her friend

I am able to give her

all the things

i didn’t have

the material things

are ornamental at best

it’s the intangible things

that give us both

the key

I try not to take

any of it

for granted

her being here

just her being here

in the world

it is a miracle

beyond my grasp

beyond my comprehension

beyond my level of understanding

she is the ray

of light

that i reached for

in the dark

on the darkest of nights

and then the morning after

in the stillness

the repressed stillness

of unshed tears

i searched the sky

the clouds

and felt the rain

drop down

and the wind

pick up

in that lilt and lifting way

it does

steering a gull

across the shore

TL

September

September

i still

don’t have

any answers

to the questions

i have

and you’d think

by now

i’d be ok

with that

but it’s like there’s

no closure

to the questions

that never get answered

the journalist in me

wants to know the why

the person in me

just needs peace

and i can’t get that

down the street

or over the tracks

or at the edge of the ocean

or at the foot of the mountain

or standing at your door

and maybe it’s September

and for some reason

this month is hard

been hard since that letter

showed up (years ago) in September

and how i didn’t wanna open it

even touch it

how even when i did

finally

it didn’t tell me nothing

i needed to know

some of it was in typed English

the rest i couldn’t read

but i saw the blanks

all the blanks

all the empty space

where nothing was said

at all

__________________________

but what i could read

told me

what i had believed

all along

wasn’t even true

a birthday that wasn’t even mine

a name that wasn’t even me

all i know

all i’ll ever know

is somebody from somewhere

left me

there

at that police station

long ago

just me

with nothing else

no identity

no note

no trace

so, the letter told me

i’d never know

when i was born

how old i really was

or my name at birth

they issued those things

at the orphanage

they just picked a month, a day, a year

out of thin air

poof

and then a name

was assigned

a stamp put on paper

a sticker on the page

a number of identification

stuck on file

like a sticker on a Tshirt

that i exist

somewhere in the world

i knew only two words in Korean

that i would say

over and over again

one meant dad

the other meant grandma

why i’m thinking about this

now

at 5 in the morning

is beyond me

i mean it’s not like i think about these things

all the time or anything

or maybe i do

or maybe it’s September

that’s a hard month

it just is

i don’t know

i really don’t

i just don’t

know

TL

In Downtown

In Downtown

there are three

clocks on the wall

telling different

times

the rain

heavy now

every window’s

hiring

umbrellas over

empty chairs

finally a cappuccino

worth sipping

she’s gone

and grown

up …

her manicured nail

tap tapping on the wheel

her hair waving wild

in the wind

I can’t keep up … with the pace

close my eyes

remembering the room

the monitor

the bright light

the moment when

I first heard her heart

Boo

ming

Boo

ming

Boo

ming

TL

In Memory

In Memory

in the fade

of flowers

she lost her ring

the one he never

got to give her

for they waited too long

to decide

thinking tomorrow

but the baby was never born

and the story of their life

was never lived

cut short

at the stem

a field of flowers

cut short at the stem

on a day

much like today

TL

White Roses

White Roses

21 years

after the song

first hit the airway

and 10 years after

the songwriter died

I heard it

for the first time

today

on the way home …

thank you Harley Allen for writing it

and thank you John Michael Montgomery

for singing it

for The Little Girl …

TL

When it Rains

When it Rains

throw some

glitter in the air

and watch it fall

unmelted snow

on the ground

like sand in the sun

a thousand lights at Christmas

reflected on wet pavement

in the eye of a sailor

who can’t go home

sequins stitched on the sea

gather in the sky

a twinkle in the dark

I heard you whisper

and say

don’t go …

so we danced

under the glitter

of trees

and forgot about the time

running in the rain

like nothing ends

specks stuck

to the windshield

some in your hair

the rest got swept away

I see it

everywhere

TL

His Beloved Son Steve

His Beloved Son Steve

he can’t

just

get up

and go get in his truck

and drive

he can’t

just

go get on his tractor

and roll around the field

he can’t

just

go wherever he wants to go

whenever he wants to go

his body won’t

allow it

so he sits

and watches squirrels

try to get in the feeder

he sits

and watches hummingbirds

fly in formation

he sits

and watches Monarch butterflies

go by

he sits

and watches the wind

blowing through the trees

he sits

and watches the rain

as it falls

and dries

and gives all his plants

what they need

he’s a farmer in his heart of hearts

and understands

the nature of things

how each crop

has its own season

in its own time

TL

Her Beloved Son Steve

Her Beloved Son Steve

yesterday

a cardinal

appeared

at her doorway

in the blur

she could see it

staring back at her

unafraid

it offered her a sense

of peace

as it stood there

in the stillness

of the morning ray

without a word

it said

what she needed most

to hear

it remained unmoved

‘til the message

was clear

in the fullness of her grief

she felt the lift

of wings

TL

Make Do

Make Do

they’ve been building

something big

over there

over yonder

massive amounts of dirt

being hauled and dumped and shoved around

and dug

into a giant pool of mud

full of rain

where this floating bird

can be seen from the roadway

drifting serenely by

as if it were a white swan

gliding across a golden pond

at sunset

instead of early in the morning

with motorized machinery

rolling round and round

and a steady stream of traffic

headed to town

this floating bird

pays it no mind

never questioning how a pond

just up and appeared

one day

on land it waddled on

it doesn’t waste a second

wondering how or when or why

it just steps in

and feels relieved

from the humid heat

and tired feet

TL

Summer in September

Summer in September

what were

jest seeds

in May

turned into

watermelons

by September

it gets me every time

how given the right conditions

and the right amount of time

something like that can grow

from a speck of seed

the first one cracked open

wasn’t ready

but the second one

was

there’s something so satisfying

in that first glimpse

of red

they say you gotta roll the melons over

and check the bottom

for a tinge of yellow

fore it’s ready

to roll

ruby ready

TL