February 2024
Bio Note: I took a long time to find my calling in life, or at least my current calling as a Psych NP. Poetry just happened along the way and turned into 5 collections and 8+ chapbooks. No awards, prizes, or accolades, but the poet friends I've made eclipse any passing praise.
Author's Note: Changing old habits, old ways of thinking and interacting is not as simple as some would make it seem. Change always comes at a cost.
Author's Note: Changing old habits, old ways of thinking and interacting is not as simple as some would make it seem. Change always comes at a cost.
Photo credit: j.lewis
my life began in fifty-one
this house came shortly after
though it and i were worlds apart
california and new mexico
ocean and mountain differences
that never would have met
the roads that led me here
would multiple the tale
'til time to tell would fail
and leave you wondering
let it be sufficient here to know
that mountain came to sea
and in this too-small house
that feels as old as i do
there are daily reminders
of aging imperfection
a cooling breeze
beside an open window
penetrates but can't persist
gives way to clinging heat
much as spirit's quiet voice
fades against an anger held too long
winter sun is impotent
no warmth to melt the silence—
ice and stone heart
entrenched against forgiveness
bare feet on cold tile floors
remembering too long some unmeant phrase
i contemplate the price of change
the central heat-and-cool solution
heaven-sent moderation
and wonder how I'll ever bear the cost
come again
there is no strict formality never the engraved invitation- that would be like your parents inviting you to sunday dinner each and every month and signing off with r.s.v.p. so they can print a guest list no, this door is never locked the mat says 'welcome, friend' and means it quite sincerely house rules are few and simple- come in, sit a spell, read at will leave a note on poems you like keep your trap shut if you don't we like polite, informal when you go, if you should be the last one out, leave the lights on you never know when the next restless soul will stop for soup or absolution maybe pen some pensive or defensive lines to live by and tape them askew on the front room wall you won't be asked to dust or vacuum or tidy up because there are no messes here but please feel free to join communal songs add harmony or counterpoint or nod and tap your foot bow out any time you like we seem to meet at the end of each month— it's potluck, bring what you like or try our latest recipe, no matter just come when you've stayed your fill exit if you will, knowing the mat that welcomes each one in also reads 'please come again' and means it quite sincerely
Originally published in goodbye sounds like, Cyberwit, 2023
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to say what it is about the poem you like. Writing to the author is what builds the community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -JL