Every child bears the spark
of eternity’s promise…
Where’s the threat in that?
What mechanism of hate
equates slaughter
of innocents with justice?
This is society’s bane –
the unconscionable policies
of greed lacking accountability
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
We knew the children were lost
so why wait for the tsunami
before beginning reparation?
And are irenic efforts with the realm
of probability now that the layers
of denial have been swept away?
(Tuesdays I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. This one for the victims of Residential Schools. Image my own.)
Slippers, perched at night stand,
twitching impatiently,
mark the absence of feet,
cannot appreciate the meaning
of unruffled bed covers.
Abandoned, a coffee mug
bemoans its curdling contents,
complains of thick brown lines
contaminating its porcelain shine,
has not noted absence of hands.
Chair, pushed back from desk,
in partial rotation, sits awkwardly,
commanding attention, disturbed
by its misalignment, has not thought
to ponder absence of body.
House, uncomfortable with silence,
creaks unnaturally, loudly voicing
objections to the absence of footfalls,
automated machinery and incessant
rings, beeps, and chimes of technology.
I try to reassure them that the absence
is only temporary, that the man whose
presence so strikingly fills this space
will return, hope they cannot read
the apprehension in my tremulous heart.
(Absence was written six years ago, while my husband recovered from a triple bypass. Image my own.)
What is it about summer
eases our defences –
was it lazy, hot afternoons
or smouldering, hazel eyes?
I ask myself again and again,
cannot remember who I was
before I took that fateful risk –
joy of youth extinguished.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Talks stalled
escapees struggle
lives minimized
burdens heavy
despair palpable
Can they sense
the global hug,
compassion circling?
Do prayers have substance,
or have the displaced
never felt so alone?
(Image mine)
Weekends at cottage
we’d linger over coffee,
dew sparkling on primroses
How we’d race to the lake
laughter emerging
from cool depth
Flowers scowl now
Lake’s chill hardened
Do you wait for me
in the eternal darkness?
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. Image my own)
Tiger’s eye
reminds me of youth,
how you remarked:
“Save it for luck!”
before brushing aside
my unruly hair…
one last time.
Found you again
decades later,
sipping tea
in a corner café,
dropped the marble
in your saucer,
your smile
bridged the years.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson, this poem edited. Image my own)
(Hi all. This post was pre-scheduled. I have turned off comments. We are currently coming to terms with the loss of a close family member. Will visit when I can, but likely be off for a bit.)
He fills the home
with sweetness –
serenades their love –
while she picks away
at every gesture,
imagining subterfuge
His floral words
only serve to poke
doubts – she reads
between the lines
of ornamental landmines
He lights candles
to set a mood,
but she is already
planning a funeral –
her wrung out heart
unwilling to fall.
His cadence is shallow –
these are familiar waters
He’ll swear the addiction
saves him from madness
Ignore the wrenching
pain in my heart…
leave to find his next fix,
another page in misery’s tome.
(Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson.
Image my own)
Summer yearns
sun burning
water cooling
life affirming
longing for love
I would hold you there
in those days of youth
when relationship
donned mystery
and fear shrouded
the path
But Autumn reigns now
a time for letting go
a time for turning
back clocks – time
lost in a mere blink
on the shores
of our story
And soon Winter
when I will knit
our memories
into cozy dreams
and while away
the frosty mornings
sipping from the cup
of moments lost.
(Eugi’s Weekly Prompt is : Autumn. Image my own)
One Woman's Quest 