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96 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1997
i shall save my poems
for the winter of my dreams...
wool is sheared...silk is spun
weaving is hard...but words are fun
I wrote a good omelet...and ate a hot poem...
after loving you
Buttoned my car...and drove my coat home...in the rain...
after loving you
I goed on red...and stopped on green...floating
somewhre in between...
being here and being there...
after loving you
I rolled my bed...turned down my hair...slightly
confused but...I don't care...
Laid out my teeth...and gargled my gown...then I stood
...and laid me down...
to sleep...
after loving you
Some people forget that love is
tucking you in and kissing you "Good night"
no matter how young or old you are
Some people don't remember that love is
listening and laughing and asking questions
no matter what your age
Few recognize that love is
commitment responsibility no fun at all
unless
Love is
You and me
Let's start with the air which has its airplanes
And thunder
And lightning
And kites
Then think of the bulbs which have shades
And switches
To turn on
When we need night lights
Oysters have seas Some dogs have fleas
though bricks and mortar are sticking
Rock has its roll Bay Bridge: No Toll
and pillows have cases and ticking
And tumbling through Space with a smile on its face
The moon has its wine and its cheeses
The Jeopardy answer is: You and Me
The question is: Who likes squeezes
Rain has drops Sun has shine
Moon has beams That make you mine
Rivers have banks Sand for shores
Hearts have heartbeats That make me yours
Needles have eyes Though pins may prick
Elmer has glue To make things stick
Winter has Spring Stockings feet
Pepper has mint To make it sweet
Teachers have lessons Soup du jour
Lawyers sue bad folks Doctors cure
All and all this much is true
You have me And I have you
the last time i was home
to see my mother we kissed
exchanged pleasantries
and unpleasantries pulled a warm
comforting silence around
us and read separate books
i remember the first time
i consciously saw her
we were living in a three room
apartment on burns avenue
mommy always sat in the dark
i don’t know how i knew that but she did
that night i stumbled into the kitchen
maybe because i’ve always been
a night person or perhaps because i had wet
the bed
she was sitting on a chair
the room was bathed in moonlight diffused through
those thousands of panes landlords who rented
to people with children were prone to put in windows
she may have been smoking but maybe not
her hair was three-quarters her height
which made me a strong believer in the samson myth
and very black
i’m sure i just hung there by the door
i remember thinking: what a beautiful lady
she was very deliberately waiting
perhaps for my father to come home
from his night job or maybe for a dream
that had promised to come by
“come here” she said “i’ll teach you
a poem: i see the moon
the moon sees me
god bless the moon
and god bless me”
i taught it to my son
who recited it for her
just to say we must learn
to bear the pleasures
as we have borne the pains
I don't understand why my hands are cold...What am I trying to prove...That I can keep the house as cold...as you do...even when you're not here...That my feet and hands don't care...I think not...I think it's a simple desire...unstated even to myself...to acknowledge...that when you're not here...it's always cold...and the furnace...can not...possibly...make a difference
a good book (not necessarily a mystery)...some popcorn with lots of real butter...an overstuffed chair...a fire in the wood stove...quilts on the couch...thermal blankets on the bed...a feather duster waiting to be used...a merlot waiting to be explored...the coffee pot with a timer...the 49crs winning if we get lucky...comic pages in color...intelligent editorials...snow or rain or any inclement weather...or heavy doses of sun...a reason to move or not move...a reason to go or not go no reason to be
anything...
except happy...
with...
you
Cans and strings and backyard trees
Giggles coming through the wire
Summer mud pies lemonade stands
Hang Up No You Hang Up First
Potatoes must be piled mile high
Then you add the leaves
Daddies always light the fires
Hang Up No You Hang Up First
Marriage children divorce jobs
Ambitions eat our days away
Girl I miss our silly times
Hang Up No You Hang Up First