so much projected on forecasts
Our head and heart in one realm
and our bodies in the other

milleniums of nature
running deeper then we wish to stare

just sitting at Twiggs at the counter
staring at the traffic
the winking chrome and glass
feeling the heat warm me more
then the fallen love attempts

and yet I cannot extinquish the smile
when I remember the intellect
the sharp wit I adored
and adornments that drew me in
the sparkle laid out for the shill
and show

adaptation has been our keymark
to our rise and fall if so be it
for rarely does the moment be
that lives beyond the ideals of
fairytales
for people are not paper dolls
and those that are wilt under
tear fall

and so I live in the dusk of
days my wild heart listening
more the dust blowing in
my vision real and earthy

It is a fancy to live in dreams
and afford that
it is another to provide work care
adaptation and growth with another

creating progeny is gods work
the miracle of it all
and the gauntlet run to make it to
adulthood independent
is another

Its a decision to be a loving heart
or a ruthless fury

And then I
admiring the ability of being
loving and ruthless to keep ahead
of the pack
moving when times need be
and capable
aware
cunning
fast

maybe a mix isnt a bad thing really
wildness
softness
sometimes Love is measured
not with flowers and prosaic
gradients
but in the action of minutes and
hours days and a week

agony of absence is a horrible thing
for all

This poem was very moving
its not maudlin
nor is it too feel

if one did not feel and a cruel transition
came and left then one would not react
to this descriptive and emotive work
there would be no pick up on the emotional
radar

Thank You

This piece knocked me right out of my socks... bringing back memories... I'm in my third marriage (of 30 years) The first husband abandoned me not even a year into the marriage. (but came back often to ask if I would remarry him, which I never did) The second became dependant on drugs and I left him as he was also involved with my best friend. Lost two in one shot, there. The third I would not trade for all the money on the Earth! I wonder where my head was when I married the second loser...

I loved these lines:

I'm no longer that young girl
castles in her head and wings on her feet

I have no suggestions, just appreciation for the work.

love, Cat

unquestionably poetry... with prosaic moments [grins]. I take a hard-nosed stand on things, primarily to force people to think. Even poets get mentally lazy. Been watching a lot of 'House' lately and it's perhaps not so amazing how much I relate to him.

Love this poem. It's in the self-revelatory genre, which can be limiting, but haunting and evocative enough to stand on it's own. Plenty of poetic devices, so subtly used as to be invisible, which is just as it should be.

Anybody can sire a child. It takes something more to be a father.............stan