My friend

When I needed a strong,
warm shoulder to lie upon,
my head resting
for just a moment,
to spill forth the fear
and rage lying captive within,
you were there . . .
holding me in comfortable
silence and understanding.

If pain became your source
of pleasure or your mind
a raging of bitter strife . . .
I was allowed the honor
of listening to those
jumbled up, tumbled out feelings
so you could have time
to sort the jigsaw pieces
and put the puzzle
back in shape.

Long have I sought a friendship
such as you give . . .
where I don’t fear to lie
exposed to your gaze.
Where I seek the warmth
of your company, rather
than hiding behind those
barriers holding me prisoner.
Where saying “I love you”
carries no threat, no fear,
only a happy glow of finally
knowing a friendship not
bound by conditions.

Who am I?

Who I am
is not of my making
yet not one facet
would I change

I have been pruned,
molded, cast by specific
hands in certain ways –
chipped and whittled
rough edges curling,
splintering off to lie
in abandoned heaps
on the floor.

Now I await
the varnishing, staining
with special dyes,
buffing and polishing.
I am almost whole
but the hands of
a master craftsman
has yet to enter
the production room
for finishing touches.

Who are you?

Who are you –
the child I have
never known?
I hear your laughter
sparkling and fanciful tones
rich and vibrant
or your anger
tempetuous, lightening
flashes of a summer storm.

I gaze with rapt amazement
at your studied countenance
taking every detail
into account as you
memorize each facet
of your existence.
A pack-rat, stuffing
incidentals into corners
for future use.

I listen to your
flamboyant giety
both mocking and
relishing the life
you call your own.
Sizzling in the excitement
of the moment.

You are . . .
a treasured gift
never allowed to bloom
until playing dress-up
was no longer a game
. . . you are
part of me.
Rarely acknowledged,
always sought.


Night Child

Child of the night
with your petals
curled up tight
in restive contemplation
of another night

Unfurl your spangled
banner of reds and golds
to fly with careless abandon
in dusky deep moonlight
casting aside shadows
lulling discontent to a
peaceful slumber

Nay, night need not be
a somber time
of reflection –
rejuvenate the pagan
spirits of long ago
dance their unearthly tunes
in sensual abandon

Refuse to wimper
when the sun lays
his head to rest.
Rather rejoice in
cascading glows
of feminine splendor
in the land of shadows.


The halls are empty,
rooms swirl with draft
not a soul in sight
save for the lonely body
of one who progressively
falls deeper and deeper still
in the well of silence

How did such a person
raise children who
are so very verbal
easily able to communicate
to share and receive

Is that it?
The fear to receive
words meant to hurt
cause cowering
rather than speaking
out for yourself
and being part
of the world

Better to hide
in drafty rooms
with books for friends
a cat for companion
safe but alone
drowning in emptiness

Party Plans

She said “Get out there and mingle”.  What a laugh.  I mingle with the food.  The people, well now that’s a different story.  In the midst of all these smiling people, I stand.  Gazing off into nowhere I shift positions but feel the earth’s muck holding my feet fast in the grassy way of the yard.  People give welcoming smiles but I can’t respond.  I hold myself fast.  I nod, smile, and walk on.

Finally, the food comes.  This I can do only too well.  I grab a seat and listen to others talk, occasionally  offering a verbal tidbit.  I try, really I do.  But I am so very uncomfortable among people.  They seem to have so little in common with me, although I realize if I gave them a chance, there are those who would be interesting and I would have something in common with.  Finding them in the cacophony of voices is quite more than I can manage.  I have been alone too long.

So I stay the requisite hour and a half and give my goodbye to the hostess.  She worked so hard preparing house, food and yard for this.  I spent three hours the day before to help prepare.  But I have fulfilled my obligatory time and hasten to the car, driving directly home where my cat and I have quiet for the rest of the evening.


Just read an exciting article about AirBNB’s plan of matching homeless refugees with people willing to share their homes for a few days to a few weeks.  They will be eventually be setting up a foundation to do these type of things.  They already have done similar work in the case of fires, floods, and other catastrophes but this is a departure from their usual fare.

I thought about how families have exchange student for a year or more and wonder why this can’t be something done on networks such as these.  Not for as long, but as a service in emergency situations.  I know there are informal cases in domestic tragedies but this is different.  People would have to be vetted on both sides. Still, it is an interesting possibility.

I find Trump’s attitudes toward refugees, particularly Muslim ones, as well as his immigration policies and treatment of muslims and xenophobia within this country frightening and personal.  If a Muslim mosque gets destroyed, pay the same consideration paid to churches.

But here are solutions, operated by both private and public sectors that can do a legitimate service, and have in the past.  I applaud the work they are doing and hope the people of this nation rally round programs such as these.