Drive-by haiku

Cruise control engaged
Rockin' Queens of the Stone Age
The darkness flies by



Composed somewhere between Austin and Waco.

Marriage

We live together
our separate lives.
He has his space
and I have mine.
This is not what I thought
marriage would be.

Flying

Flying at thirty thousand feet
Night, the moon almost full
Staring at the earth below
Silver flashes on the waters
Sequins on an evening gown
Enchanted I gaze for minutes, hours?
My neck aches and I turn away.

Shedding Skin

I slough the old, dead me
one layer at a time
Slowly exposing the person
I’ve always known I could be -
deep down inside of me
She’s hidden for so many years
Afraid to emerge into the day
Afraid of the stares, the scrutiny
of those who would tear and pick
at my fragile new skin
trying to find the weak
places to get their poisons in, again

Shit Brown Subaru

Shit brown
Subaru you
were my first
car.

Not really
mine
but on
loan for a
time.

My ticket to
adolescent
freedom
to
be
grounded.

How I
cherished you
my shit
brown
Subaru.

Procrastination

Prying my mind away from its
wandeRing i try to fOcus and
Cannot. swiRling thoughts
floAt about vaSt
empTiness
In desperatioN i
write A poem
abouT that with whIch
i struggle, my dOwnfall,
procrastinatioN

His Hands

His hands are worn
and beaten and thick with
scars. They have plowed
fields, picked cotton and
planted seed.

They have driven horses
and cattle and wagons. They
have steered tractors and
trucks, freighters and
fishing boats.

His hands have nursed calves
and branded them, and led them
to slaughter. They have shot and
skinned and gutted rabbit, squirrel
and deer.

They have shoved brothers, beaten
men, caressed lovers. They
have cradled, spanked and comforted
children, grandchildren and
great grandchildren.

His hands have been
mangled and bruised and blistered
by the work of a lifetime full
of toil and sorrow
and joy.

Once strong and sure,
His hands carry the weight
of a full and hard life,
and tremble.