Moving

The rumble of men’s voices
grunting shifts beneath
heavy wooden furnishings

The transition is underway
Broom and cloth at hand
I hover out of sight

Will erase each vestige of us
bless this passage, prepare
to welcome the new.

(Moving day! Prewritten for Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: transition. Image mine.
We will not have access to the internet for a few days. I hope to be back on the weekend.)

Is Optimism Enough?

Are you happy?

The question hits
my gut,
slingshots
down the hall
deadends
at optimism

Of course, I respond.

What else can I say…
Sure life needs tweaking…
I am learning to be better…
I can make this work…

Why?  What do see?
Thoughts unspoken
but the bell has been rung…

(For Reena’s Exploration challenge:  How far can optimism go?  Image my own.)

Not Meant To Be

He was night dark,
ruminated over death
and loss and injustice
Don McLean on repeat

I was sunshine yellow
joy of living
optimism on steroids
Dancing Queen

If opposites attract
then we were magnets
lured by the mystery
One Way or Another

When night meets day
colours explode
light breaks black
Shame, Shame, Shame

(For Eugi’s Causerie weekly prompt: when night meets day.  Image mine)

 

Parental Passages

Carefully we construct
security for offspring –
add luxuries to entertain
accommodate growth
play host to revolving-
door friends and dates.

And yet, we are graded
on performance – met
or unmet expectations –
held up against a stack
of other super parents,
silhouettes of perfection.

Still, we celebrate goals,
sprouting family, ignore
the slanders, and ease
into age with a tad of kook,
or wild inappropriateness –
all expressions of our love.

(First edition of this poem appeared Feb/’18.  Image from personal collection.  Submitted for Reena’s Exploration challenge, choosing the prompt: silhouette.)