Mind racing with too many thoughts
Maxton days loom just below surface
It's Mother's Day and I haven't called
Missed her birthday too, so many things
I owe her... and so many things he owed
Her too, and to his daughters...
At least sisters three learned to traverse
Communication's encrypted gulf
I never learned how to commune
I could never get past her pain...
And I still cannot heal her sorrow
Like a sponge absorbing spilt milk
I drink of her absolute loneliness
Until I am steeped in the brokenness
Of remembering ...Call it heredity,
Conditioned response, or call it off
Fifty years is enough
Ransom
His nightmare made
My psychosis seem genuine
I know it was real
But it all seemed a dream
I did awaken in bed
But with the feeling I'd
Not slept or been there
For any length of time
Matter of fact I think
My life began yesterday
According to my dream
Yesterday was a garden
And before the garden
Only isolation's grip
Sister's Clock
Time is running down
At least for destiny' keeper
With winding spring unraveling
And no watchmaker or fixer
An icy quietness hovers
Silent as snowfall on tundra
Marking a marble slab
With time's indelible passing
Hear the clock ticking
As leaded seconds pass
Slow weighted pendulums
Rock to muted cadence
No one hears her pleas for help
No one senses her total dismay
