Week 4

Day 22 Emergency

Hospitals
Sterile, contaminated
Waiting, debating, healing
prayers for the sick
Infirmaries

Emergency
Death, birth
Dreaming, breathing, beating
On his chest
Tragedy

Pain
Pill, shots
Writhing, screaming, wailing
The call lights failing
anguish

Day 23 the noise

Endless night noises age me
The dogs bark all night
The train barrows through into my dreams
Honking its horn
I imagine the conductor gets a sick thrill
Of sounding his horn at two a.m. passing through
A densely populated neighborhood
With sleeping children
and napping parents,
no good parent really sleeps at night
without having one ear open for any tragedy
this might occur,
a child awakes screaming
from the terror of midnight monsters.
Yet it is only the conductor grabbing hold of the chain
that sounds the alarm of his arrival
And pulls until he is sure everyone
In our small town is awake
Each night I curse his perverse sense of humor
And threaten to write a letter to the Mayor.
In the wee hours of the morning
I lie awake watching
the bedside clock tick, tick, ticks the second of my life away

Day 24

Everybody say they are sorry for my loss
Do they have any idea how empty those
Words sound to one so young
The funeral came and went so fast
And at the end of the service
I sat alone by the gravesite
To say my silent good byes
The preacher came and took my hand
“I’m sorry for your loss” he said.
He patted the back of my hand
Like I had seen him do countless times
Before at other people’s funerals
And I may have even said the same empty words myself
“I’m sorry for your loss,”
If you are so sorry bring my mother back.
I scream back, but only on the inside.
I smile, and hug the well wishers
like the dutiful strong daughter you taught me to be.
Inside I feel like I am dying too.

That night, naked in the shower
Scalding hot water drips down my face
Hiding my burning tears
As I rail against God in heaven
I raise my fist in defiance
“Why?” I scream
“Why did my mom have to die?”
My body weakened from grief
I slide down the cold tile wall
The water and tears intermingled
Pool at my feet
And I say aloud one last time
I’m so sorry mom, that I wasn’t with you
I’m sorry I wasn’t the daughter you needed me to be
I’m sorry for all your losses that I am just beginning to understand
I hear your words echoing inside my aching head
“Sorry is just a word,” mom told me
“Everyone says they are sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, do something”

Day 25

I use to have a passion the burned whit hot
The flame so intense I fear it burned itself out.

Your passion, your body warms me
I fear that repeated denial of your affections
Will lead you to younger more willing flesh
My love has only grown
From the warmth of your embrace
Yet life’s demands drain
The little energy I have
At the end of the day
It’s in your arms I wish to lay
Until sweet slumber sails me away
On the sea of dreams
Where I am the object of your desires
I do not trust
You will not betray my heart
Lust calls to you far louder
Than you wish to concede

Hand in hand we stand
Through this life together
I watch from the corner of my eye
Heart on a precipice to be lifted to a place of security
Where my soul is worth more to you
than my anatomy.

Day 26

The ghost of thanksgivings past

As children we sit around the kiddy table
Devouring plates of grannies homemade goodies
Looking forward to the hot potato rolls and sweet potato pies

The old folks reminisce of days gone by
Playing chess and watching football games
laughing

Stevie Wonder’s Songs in the Key of Life spins on the turn table
In the dining room the aunts dance with the newest family members
A glass of wine and everyone was happy

Kids were relegated to kitchen duty
Lots of bubbles and water fights
Sneaking a slice of pie
Hugs and Kisses
Good byes and well wishes
How I wish I had been more thankful then
Thanksgivings of longs ago,
The losses over the years cut deep
Granny’s rolls have been replaced by cheap store bought ones
There is no music, no laughter, and no joy
Just empty seats where mom, granny, and Uncle Gene use to be
Their ghostly memories haunt
Till no one goes to dinner anymore.

Day 27 Shapes of my love

The preacher said
“let the circle be unbroken”
yet you broke my heart
With your lies, deceit and pride

The diamond upon my finger
May well have been cut glass
As you words cut deep
the triangular spikes
Of the work mans saw
The edges you left raw
Bleeding

Looking me square in the eyes
You stood there,
A charlatan
A master of disguise
You made me love you then

You traveled the long way
Around the truth
Bending reality
Into fantasy
I am its star.

Day 28
Through this window

Through this window
I see the trees
Shed its vibrant green summer attire
For something more sedate
The foliage covers the ground
Red yellow and browns
Until you are bare
Waiting for your new wardrobe
To arrive
Winter white
Always fashionable
yet never late
Standing tall
arms stretched to the sky
Soaking up the cold winters sun
with barely a quaver
As the winter winds blow
Adorning you with
Shimmering
Glistening
Crystals
That in spring
Rehydrate the ground
And we are reborn.

Day 29 eight

There are eight souls on this journey called life
Forced to live together in disharmony
By marriage or dna
Not one is strong enough to make it on their own
The world outside that door is cruel
A lesson learn by some a bit sooner than others
Only to return
a prison or safe haven?
You decide.
Inside these walls love is offered and oft times rejected
Values taught
Battles fought
My shoulders fraught
With the weight of carrying the heart and soul of this home
alone.

Day 30 something that sticks with you

The pain in her eyes
The anguish in her smile
The tremor in her voice

I will never forget
The sadness in her laughter
The tears behind the grin
Was she ever truly happy?
Maybe now at her journeys end.

I hope you transition was peaceful
No more pain, struggle or strife
I know the next one will be better
Than the one you had in this life.

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