Moving On

Would it shock you to know that if I knew how, I would give up my breath and move on to the next plane.

My stroked life and life in this nursing home are almost unbearable and certainly not worth sustaining…that I can see.

I left better days behind with no better possibilities in front of me.

If I knew how to peacefully, I would stop it now. No more pain and anxiety, please. Just peaceful moving on.

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In my dream, I rose from my bed, put on my red robe and red slippers. Then I joined friends in my kitchen who were pouring milk over cereal. They were glad I had whole milk. I was happy in my dream.

When I woke, sadness filled me…aware I needed a Hoya lift and two people to rise from bed. I was ninety-nine percent sure I would never go home again and would never again wear my red robe and slippers.

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Snow Ride

It was winter in the early 1960s. I was spending the night with my friends, Barbara and Alva, who were sisters. The next morning we woke to a heavy snow fall seldom seen in Georgia. No traffic on the road.

I stayed over the next night and early that morning we heard a putt, putt, putt coming down the road. It was my dad coming to get me on his little John Deere tractor. Snow was still falling. He was the only thing on the road since the snow started. We got me settled standing behind him on the tractor and headed for home in the silence of snow. I hugged his shoulders as snow flew in our faces. It was a joy ride for me. The only sounds…us talking, the putt, putt of the tractor and the sound of the tractor tires crunching the snow covered dirt roads.

It continued to snow all the way home. Sometimes snow would fall on us when we drove under trees limbs. We were definitely wet. That is the best time I remember having with my dad. We laughed in this wonderland of snow and us.

Safely back at home, we put on dry clothes, warmed by the stove, and later made snow ice cream. It is a fine memory!

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My Scream

Daily and nightly, there is a scream lodged in my throat. It makes my throat sore and my chest feel hollow. To release it would physically hurt me.

This scream causes anxiety and is crazy-making. It is a silent scream, for now. Releasing it could possibly kill me.

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No More

Leaves that lept from the tree

Lie dreaming of spring breezes

Which they will feel no more

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In the courtyard, ravens sitting on the backs of seven white lawn chairs circling a white table. Waiting for lunch.

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Soul Scars

Our mother’s anger

Blood on our legs and backsides

With scars in our souls

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Written July 15, 2011


Last night in my backyard

The wind traveled high

Danced in the top of tall trees

While shorter trees stood perfectly still

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I want to dine on the balcony of a city apartment on a street by the sea.

Seasoned sea scallops

Sparkling mineral water

Green avocado

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Writing Practice

March and April given

To Goldberg’s writing practice

Lost my ability to poem



Wrote in July, 2021, after taking a Zoom class with Natalie Goldberg. Wrote two versions. See below.



Spring wild mind given

To Goldberg’s writing practice

Lost my poeming mind

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