October 2024
Bio Note: I have already written 30 poems since I published my 13th poetry book, He Puts on His Poker Face in August. My latest poetry credits are Silver Birch Press (All About My Mother series) and Storyteller Poetry Review. In my recent poems, I have reverted back to using imagination and imagery rather than memory and memoire. I love to surprise readers.
The Body Wore Pink Shorts
Similar to the pair
in my dresser
when she was found
in the dumpster
behind the apartment
complex similar
to mine in California.
She was a blonde
rookie reporter
like I was when
a killer strangled
her as she slept
in the safety
of her own bed,
A single woman
just starting life.
Just like me.
But I survived.
His Pulse Pounds When
He exercises his lungs
after exiting the womb.
Runs around the bases
after hitting the ball.
Makes the touchdown
or the winning shot,
gets his diploma,
bachelors and masters
but before he accepts
his doctorate
it is your pulse
that is pounding
when the cops call
and say he has no pulse.
I Don’t Need a DNA Test
to know that kid
is one of mine.
I recognize
the footprints
in the sand,
the callused
palm print
on the car window
where he left the note,
the signature scrawl,
the long lanky legs
walking up the steps,
the strong knock,
the Norwegian
accent passed down
from generation
to generation,
Trouble is I am
not sure which
tribe he comes from.
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