Don’t Leave

I know why
the mourning dove cries
her wistfully beautiful song

‘please don’t leave,’
she already grieves;
every second is one too long

-image credit



This is my first summer off since I began working 30 years ago. For 10 years, I worked long hours in the juvenile corrections field, which was so very rewarding, but also soul twisting. The last 14 years, I've worked 50-60 hour weeks with no sick or personal time, and until 2 years ago, I took only one short vacation each of those years. My soul is exhausted and in need of revitalization. 

For the summer, I am working 1 day a week, and the other days I do have many family responsibilities, but I also have free time that I've never had before. It feels so good.

As much as I'd love to use much of the free time to read and write, my heart is telling me I need to use it differently. My children are growing fast, and sooner than I'd like, they'll be gone. My husband enjoys outdoor activities and loves nothing more than for me to accompany him. The house we've loved and lived within for 20 years is being remodeled, amidst the process of becoming in unison with those who inhabit it, and my elbow grease is contributing.

My heart is telling me my home needs some love, both figuratively and literally. This summer, my heart and spirit are leading me home, and it is breathing in me new life. 

I will only be here sporadically, but I'll carry your words in my heart. Have an amazing summer, all! 


*image via Pixabay

Passed Past

I passed my old house today,
the longest lived of a dozen,
the one whose phone number I still remember

it looked so tired,
its warped cedar lining the sloping front porch,
and dirty, seamist siding cracking,
faded by the sun

and those same creaky boards offered welcome warning,
as feet three sizes too small walked me up the steps,
trepidus palms swiping years away to peer though the old glass

each foggy breath brought ghosts,
tear streaked memories,
mind’s eye seeing your long, silky black hair gone short,
your wistful hand stroking the womb swelling bigger than yesterday’s regret,
heavy dreams wilting, curling the corners of the flowered wallpaper

I heard your plastic giggle,
listening to the silly joke while you folded a shirt,
smiling on the outside, but your fickle heart fading like the scorched siding
and melting into mine

that’s when I realized I’d closed my eyes,
and my chest no longer rose, 
my own heart threatening to atrophy,
and when that last warm, exhaled breath faded away,
I saw your reflection in the glass,
staring back at me

with steely resolve, I turned and walked away,
down that broken sidewalk, past my sunken handprint,
and never looked back

-image via Pixabay