Decked out in chiffon and lace
young Ella, called after mom,
never felt so grown,
rushing to mother’s call
to pilot the stroller today.

The streets to market were bare
save for a frail widow
guiding her walker to their right -
smiling at the girl in chiffon.

Without a sign, electric shocks
seized the old woman's frame,
spreading her supine like a crucifix
beside the irrelevant walker.

Battling through glazing eyes,
she clung to images of mother, stroller
and the girl in chiffon -
their cries a distant echo.

But their images presently faded
and old dear Ella returned to primal dust.

*July, 2006

This is a poem
That comes straight from my heart
Bypassing my brain
And all other parts
From there to my pen
In writing it down
This poem in your hand
That your holding now

This poem breathes into it
It's very own life
Brings its own tears
If there's a need to cry
This poem has it all
With a need for no more
This poem that you hold
This poem straight from my heart

This poem comes with no title
With no need to explain
Something so simple
As a given name
All that it has is all that it is
This poem from my heart
Is all that it gives

wish I could be
more like you
and a little less like me
but that ain't the way
this ball rolls
how it's supposed to be
the way that we all tumble
in our individuality
so I guess it's best
you stick with you
and I'll stay stuck on me
because without you
and without me
what in the world
would this world be
we can fight for a cause
because it's free
but who does that leave
in the drivers seat
guess that's why
we all need
someone like you
someone like me

Me and Mary Lou
Were married right out high school
Her soon to have a baby
Me with nothing much to do

Didn't get much of an education
From the high school social scene
Life is now one big social frustration
If you know what I mean

Got a job on the dead shift
Down at the Jiffy mart
When Mary Lou went to labor
Emptying out her shopping cart

Got the call at 2am
Telling me I had a boy
I went straight to isle 3
And bought him his first of many broken toys

Cause broken toys prepare us
For the book of broken dreams
That most of us later in life
Tend to sit and read

Got the call not that much later
Telling me Mary Lou had died
Pretty shortly after that
My boy let out his first of many cry's

I wish I could have been there
Though not much I could have done
Except to give last minute comfort
To the mother of my son

Still down at the Jiffy mart
Whats a man to do
With a now 2 year old by your side
Sitting on a stool

He loves to hear the stories
Of when his mom and I were young
But he always adds the saddest end
When he asks why she is gone

I tell him she's still living
Only now she's in our hearts
I'm not sure that he believes me
As that's when the tear drops start

But life goes on as always
Like the purchases that I ring
With both us boys missing Mary Lou
If you know what I mean