Inheritance

She left him money, not much
but enough
to get something special
from her to him

First he split the money
with his wife.
He knew she loved
his mom, too,
and because
that‘s the way he was.

He took the rest
and purchased
an overstuffed
leather recliner.

Why?
Why a recliner I asked him.
His reply?

Every time I sit,
I’ll feel her arms
around me
as if she were a huge
old stuffed recliner
bringing me comfort
after a rough day.

Green Life

Sallow green,
tummy churns
hold it all in
what ever it is
until I can unload.

Oh, I’ve felt this before
felt the color of revolt
when combining
sugar, wheat,
and diet cokes.

Holder of the Universe

My job is to hold up the universe
That surrounds me.  The heft
Is greatest on overcast days
Or when someone hurts
Me or a loved one. The sunlight
Helps but  not as much as a kind,
Weightless word.

Ready to Wear Red

Dim memories
of a knock down dead
satin red dress
fitted with curvy bodice,
and size sleek waist. No

self consciousness
in the wearing. It was part
of me. I’m thankful

for the memory
of me in a red dress.
I must have been twelve.

Between Two and Four

I disappear around two p.m.
Down time
is a stretch of time after
work out, errands, meetings,
writing, painting, lunch.
Then I fade to a beige caramel
melting…into the color of my walls.
No one can reach me -
I am gone.  My eyes
flicker, heart begins to beat
again - first signs I’m coming back.
I revive, become alive after
four.  I‘m ready…

Snow White

Architectural bodies
gather, float to show
what is perfection in form
and motion.  Soft silhouettes
pirouette on the mountainous
terrain like ballerinas.

All that is  beauty
drifts, builds
to a crescendo
until all the world
is cleansed in the purity
of white flakes.

The winter sun
appears as if on cue,
spotlights them all
and they are transformed
to a dazzling diamond
radiance.  What a performance.
What a show of beauty
and grace. Bravo!

Signs

The charcoal clouds are pregnant
with rain and distress.
The chilled breeze foretells
a day of unrest.
Witches-hair
moss sways
from  live oaks
that  knarl their way
upward.  I watch
as leaves scatter.
The world becomes
silent except for the sound
of  shaking, breaking
trees and whistles
of warning from
the wind. It’s time.