that splinter in my finger,
touching it again
to feel the small ache sing—
she is made of splinters
still learning not to walk too close
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged mean girl, poem, poetry, splinter on October 13, 2016| 2 Comments »
that splinter in my finger,
touching it again
to feel the small ache sing—
she is made of splinters
still learning not to walk too close
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged apology, friendship, mean girl, poem, poetry on February 22, 2015| 5 Comments »
An apology is the superglue of life. It can repair just about anything.
—Lynn Johnston
I wanted her to apologize,
told myself I needed it.
She gave me a blank page.
A silent room.
A heart wildly aware
of its own beating.
If she had any inkling
how rich these gifts have been,
how much more abundant and spacious my life
has become,
I think
she would have
apologized.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged badger, boundaries, mean girl, poem, poetry on February 10, 2015| 5 Comments »
First time I saw a badger
it was nowhere near as pretty as you
with your long honey hair and your slender hips,
but just like you it was all spit and snarl and vicious hiss.
I was so curious, I got closer.
Shows what I know about boundaries.
Yeah, I did, I got close enough to see the points
on its sharp yellow teeth,
got close enough to feel its body pull back before the charge,
I could smell its hostile stench.
So you mighta thunk I’d a learned to step back from a badger when I see one,
those unmistakable sharp dark eyes and those meat-ripping claws,
those tenacious jaws that lock and won’t let go,
‘specially when I don’t have a big stick or a can
of pepper spray, nor a gun, not even thick skin, just
this fool open hand that reaches out like some frisky little wide-eyed mouse
as if to say, hey, don’t you think we could be friends?