Passing A Lake At Dawn


I pass this lake every morning
without noticing, but today 
an oval of sunlit blue
surrounded by gray clouds
looks like a spaceship in the sky

and I’m trying to drive
but there’s a ladder
of slanted light floating down
and my head jerks around
like a robot suddenly given life

and the mist is rising
and the face of the lake is still and serene
as if in a trance, or in a dream,
waiting for aliens
to step down the ladder
and take her away

and I could almost
want to go, too

but there’s a left turn ahead 
and so much to do.



 

Four Tanka

 
clearance sale
at the corner bookstore 
winter rain
drips down
the exclamation point



a mechanic
fixes a noise
in my car...
this muffled sadness
only I can hear

 

long day 
waiting at the hospital 
time 
stretched out 
like a patient on a table



the friend
I’m following
runs a red light…
my life drives faster
than I do



 

Reading To A Woman With Alzheimer’s


I sit on the edge of a hospice bed
reading aloud from a children’s book -
a Bible story
with pictures and large print.

She was a teacher, they say, 
before her mind went away
to a place in the desert
and now her thoughts
have all dried up.

As I read
my hands start shaking
from the M.S.
and  can’t remember
what to do  next...
 
then a thin white arm
floats over my shoulder
with  long, bony fingers 
and turns the page:

Lazarus had been in the tomb
 for four days…
 


Credits:   Clearance Sale originally published in Atlas Poetica 13. A Mechanic originally published in A Hundred Gourds 2.3.  Long Day and The Friend originally published in Red Lights 9.2