Longing

Rarely does a speaker or writer mention

the joy that comes before longing,

the joy that accompanies longing,

the joy of having whatever it is you need or want,

like sunshine before rain,

treading water before going under,

intuition before the big mistake,

comfort before loss,

pleasure before pain.

There was a time, a few years ago,

when two wonderful men both loved me.

Then the other one dropped out,

and his disappearance brought forth

the deepest longing I have ever known.

Longing is the knowledge that there is

a better party going on somewhere else

and you've not been invited.

You Wake Up & Then All Hell Breaks Loose

 She wakes into darkness,

invisible birds talking it up,

single repeat calls, crescendos, diminuendos,

a mis-matched morning chorus.

Eyes closed, awake from the fog of a dream

where she heard her mother's voice,

bright steel, cotton swipe, plum jam sweet.

The teapot shouts in the blue kitchen.

She appears for caffeine and cream,

then toast and fruit.

The morning news — "steak knife confessional"

a "pool of blood in a second floor kitchen

"Lord Jesus, I did it; I did it."

Family members cry; the Chief of Police speaks.

Then Donald Trump announces for President,

the 12th of a dozen Republicans who hope to beat Hillary,

who hope to come across as conservatives who cut taxes,

reduce the tax rolls, and increase jobs in Texas.

Sixteen months in the future, we will vote, in privacy,

no matter what our bumper stickers say.