Charlie Woods
at 12
his dad
taught him
a great lesson
in endurance
that no matter what
happens or doesn’t happen
you adapt, you adjust
and you overcome
TL
Poetry
Charlie Woods
at 12
his dad
taught him
a great lesson
in endurance
that no matter what
happens or doesn’t happen
you adapt, you adjust
and you overcome
TL
In Repose
i sit
very still
and quiet
at the edge
of the sea
as it says
what it says
to me
i wonder
when it ever rests
maybe
on the other end
it’s as still
and as quiet
as me
waiting
for the sun
to rise
and sighing
as it
falls
beneath
there’s so much
going on
so much
i don’t see
or understand
or know
i feel like
a grain of sand
a drop of wave
picked up
and carried
and tossed around
then set me back
down
only to return
and retreat
in a rhythmic
and continuous
flow of time
a grain
is but a part
of something
more
something
infinitely more
as it travels so far
through time
and space
long nights
and dark days
in the crevice of a shell
tumbling and tumbling and tumbling
before it rests
in a bubble
of rain
and dries
in the breath
of a butterfly
and gets lifted
and carried off
in the careful hands
of a child
who will know
just what to do
TL
American Underdog
my dad
was big
on sports
he loved it all
I can see him now
jumping around
in his red pajamas
yelling at the TV
Go! Go! Go! Go!
jabbing the remote in the air
he’d get all worked up
over a touchdown
and laugh like a little kid
if it turned out
he didn’t miss a detail
or a call
or a play
or a look
he was all in
knew the stats
the style of the coaches
their history
how they recruit
think he loved the heart
you gotta have
to play full-out
other than sports
he was big
on movies
he’d read every single
credit line
rolling
and listen to the very
last note
to the ending song
and think about the story
long afterwards
if he was alive
on Christmas Day
Dec. 25, 2021,
he’d be sitting in the theatre
with a big tub of popcorn
a super-size drink
a bunch of candy (he smuggled in)
and a grin from ear-to-ear
barely able to contain
his excitement
over this new movie
he’s been dying to see
save me a seat, Dad
I’ll be there
soon as I can get away
don’t eat all the sno-caps!
TL
Christmas Lights
a night
of tiny stars
dropped down
and rested
on the windshield
glittering in the glow
Christmas all around
snow globes in every drop
catch the color
and spin round and round
like a blur
stars stuck on the shield
twinkle like a song
a streak across the glass
amidst so many drops
like a shooting star
before it blinks
TL
In the Kingdom
i can’t
re
member
a time
when i wasn’t
living in fear
it is so much
a part
of who i am
that i cannot
imagine
a life
without it
i have been shaped
by fear
from the moment
i was left
to the moment
he left
to the moment
she left
to the moment
i realized
i was
truly and utterly
a l o n e
no human form
i could go to
and tell
what was happening
in my small life
i lived in constant fear
and got good
at hiding my self
within my self
in order to survive
experiencing a death
so sudden
would further shape
my fear
i would always
be afraid
to love anybody
ever again
that awfully much
for it can break you
up
and leave you in
too many pieces
to pick up
and no matter how old
you get
you’ll spend the rest of your life
looking
searching …
for some speck
of who you were
before being
blown away …
i feel i’ve found
more than a speck
more than a piece
but whole sheets
page after page
of sheet music
blowing in the wind
that sings from the sea
and reaches
back
way back
to the part of me
that still believes
in fairy tales
and happily-ever-after
The End
TL
Never Giving Up
i suppose
to the outward eye
i’m just out there
hitting golf balls
in the early morning
light
day after day
chipping
and pitching
and putting
in the heat
in the wind
in the rain
in the cold
taught myself
the short game
without a lesson
pros tried to teach me
irons and driver
but it didn’t stick
still struggle on the range
but the short game
is all mine
and somewhere
out there
in the repetition
and rhythm
and feeling
blisters and Band-Aids
i found
myself
once more
TL
Come What May
it’s night
it’s cold
it’s been
one
of the worst
days
of my life
but not the
worst
no, not nearly
lived through
way worse
than this
small
insignificant
thing
that had me
crying in the car
for hours
it ain’t easy
being
a woman
I’m going through
“the change”
a month in
and it’s been
an adjustment
I’ve never been
a sweater –
someone who sweats
I can workout hard
and not break a sweat
but now
all of a sudden
like overnight
like a blink
I sweat
for no reason
at all
it’s like a flush of heat
washes over you
and you become hot
so you crank the air up
or kick the covers off
or roll your face with ice
but you don’t stay hot
10 minutes later
you’re cold
so you put the seat warmer on
and pull the covers up
and feel your face
but you don’t stay
cold
10 minutes later
you’re hot
my hormones are
way out of whack
my emotions are
hot and cold
you feel tired
but can’t sleep
you forget
what
you were
just about to say
then realize
it don’t matter
anyway
nobody’s listening
nobody cares
they got their own
problems
so after one
of the worst days
where you jest wanna crawl in the bed
and go to sleep
the day’s not done
yet
there’s chauffer duty
there’s waiting
you do a lot of waiting around
when you’re a parent
of a teen
who needs a ride
to this, that and the other
so it’s night
and it’s cold
and it’s been
a long day
and I’m sitting there
in my car
with the seat warmer on
and the AC blasting
and I close my eyes
and I just wanna go to sleep
I’m emotionally drained
but I open my eyes
‘cause I can’t fall asleep
in my car
and in the corner of my eye
I see movement
it’s a cat
a beautiful colorful cat
that just appeared
next to me
I roll the window down
and speak to it
but it doesn’t understand
me
so I get out of the car
and course
that spooks him
and he disappears into the bushes
I look for food in my car
something to give him
but I only find water
so I go over to the empty can
of food
that somebody left him
and fill it with water
he was thirsty
then I go to a nearby chicken place
and get him some nuggets
and another cat suddenly appears
and at first
they’re not that hungry
‘cause they’ve already been fed
but as time passes
they drink all the water
and eat all the chicken
they’ve had two meals
today
and now sit on the sidewalk
content
their circumstances are dire
they live in a gutter
and hide in bushes
with traffic circling them
day and night
constantly afraid
and yet
they are content
with their little lives
‘cause they have each other
and that’s all
that really ever matters
in the end
it could have been
way worse for them
they could have tried
to survive
on their own
all a l o n e
TL
Behind the Door
she saw
the dust
swimming
in the ray
of a closed
window
and thought
she heard it fall
as it touched
the floor
where a trace
of footsteps
left a sole
behind
the dust settled
on well-loved
Blue
and the bottom
of teacups
and bathtubs
wrappers of crayons
and crust
half-eaten lollipops
and spilled milk
wet mittens
and socks
turned pages
and magic tricks
leaves and sticks
and every rock in the river
brown boxes
that were never boxes
but boats
stars stuck on the wall
wake up at night
the cat didn’t have a home
neither the dogs
the birds, the rabbits, the hamsters, the fish, the gecko
the squirrel
minnows, frogs, fireflies, butterflies, inch worms
a white moth
a brown moth
a ladybug
a beetle
a bee
a lizard
broken wings
and tired deer
raccoons
and a fox that was
jest too fast
like that hummingbird
magic was
in the air
in every breath
it whirled and twirled
and rumbled and ran
it zigged and zagged
and crawled and stood
and pirouetted
and glided and spun
and drifted
quietly
across the floor
winking and blinking
out the door
leaving a trail
a hidden path
an opening
in a field
of wheat
a forest
of snow
an ocean
of sand
a mountain
of mist
a meadow
of orchards
red apples
and emerald cities
“follow, follow, follow, follow, follow
the yellow brick road …”
TL
The Spirit of Christmas
he always
always
brought me
a tin of chocolates
at Christmastime
that he’d meticulously
made
he loved to watch my reaction
on that first bite
making sure they were jest as good
as last year
after some persuasion
he gave up the recipe
and one day
I made some
and followed his instructions to a T
course they didn’t turn out
quite like his did
the taste was off
and I called him and told him that
he jest laughed as if he knew a secret
his chocolates had a certain quality
and over time, he had perfected the taste
and texture
whipping up batch after batch
in his country kitchen
he made so many happy
with his kindness and grace
at the last get-together at my house
over the summer
I was able to tell him
how much his chocolates meant to me
standing there in front of the refrigerator
I told him how those chocolates of his
helped get me through some tough times
how I’d stand there at the refrigerator
in the middle of the night
when I couldn’t sleep …
soothed by chocolate
thank you, Joe Frank, … I’ll miss you …
especially at Christmas – always, always at Christmas
(March 16, 1939 – October 27, 2021)
TL
Mountain’s Morning
a still
harmony
through sharp
fog
vast views
of paused waves
the shy gleam
of silver peaks
intense clouds
tangling the sky
quiet chaos
of roaring streams
red and yellow
carpet the floor
another leaf
delicately lands
with canopy’s
of evergreen walls
the morning dew
still forming
on blades of grass
(written in Mr. Sprouse’s English class
by one of his 8th grade students)
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
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
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 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
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
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
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
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
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
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