Day 14 - 30 Poems in 30 Days

Twenty Questions That…

Are you going to wear THAT?

How soon will you quit college and get a job?
Why did your husband change jobs AGAIN?
Is your son still listening to that devil music?
What makes you think YOU have a chance?
Can you really afford those gaudy boots?
Why don’t you call more often?
Did you go to church today?
Is your daughter still seeing THAT boy?
Why can’t I eat that candy bar?
When are you going to slow down?
Why don’t you take better care of yourself?
Why did she throw it away – it wasn’t THAT spoiled?
Why don’t you turn off that squalling music?
Why do you think THAT prize is a big deal?
Why do you wear your hair like THAT?
Who picked THIS restaurant?
Why did you waste your money on a card for me?
Why don’t you ever talk about your father?
How soon are you coming back to visit?

Day 13 - 30 Poems in 30 Days

Surrender

It is easy

to surrender
to the blue evening.
The lull – the pull
of that forgotten place
on the sharp edge
of memory.
The azure labyrinth
where sapphire
moon shifters
entice me to forget
about tomorrow, today.
To lie gentle
and free as
a turquoise prayer
of gratitude.

Day 12 - 30 Poems in 30 Days

Learning To Love My Neck

I am an older woman now.

I wish to love my neck again.
Not focus on the flawless ones
of young girls, to love this now-creased stem
which holds my head
that holds my brain – in which
these word flow, swim, converge.

The seven bony segments C-1 to C-7
the cartilaginous discs, the hyoid bone,
cricoid cartilage, trachea, isthmus
sternomastoid muscle.
For all these years
this neck has guarded
the jugular road of my life.

I want to do-away with turtle necks,

let my scarfs hang long and loose,
wear a low-cut red dress or blouse,
expose the delicate décolletage
to other eyes, the sun, the moon.
To flaunt the knowledge lines
that ring my present life.  

So come now, you carnival hawkers

try to pull me in – guess my age.
I’ll keep my dollar bill
not be suckled in for one cheap prize.
I know the years I’ve tickled this earth,
that I have lived and loved
more than you could even bear.