Sun Kissed Days

Sun Kissed Days

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Mom


There was a comfort
knowing that I could hear 
your voice,
melt into your arms,
watch the shadows cast
on your face
and know how to bring
light into your eyes.
There was comfort in loving,
in living,
in a shared meal,
an anecdote,
in silent moments.
There was comfort 
I no longer find,
the one I felt in your womb 
or your gentle hand
on my burning forehead 
when I was sick.
I have no church or synagogue
to find refuge in.
I seek the museums 
of the world
where we once walked 
together,
I walk alone.
In their splendor
I feel you like a gentle wind
beside me,
urging me to see the magnificence. 
The art fills my soul
with curiosity and wonder.
I find you there,
loving me,
giving me the will
to find the essence
in the beauty of this life.

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Unvarnished



The mirror shards,
sharp as the strands of grey hair,
unvarnished 
like the redwood trees.
You would not recognize
the resilient starfish
left on the shore 
to die.
You were a stray dog
that followed me home.
I let you into 
my consciousness.
You wagged your tail,
you licked my face
with adoration
before you barked.
When you bit me,
I put you down.
I was sober,
you were not.
I was not a munequita
to chew and spit out.
Blindfolded I was lured
by the darkness,
misery I mired in.
You set fire and scorched
our landscape.
I  rose from the ashes,
while 
you
became a 
ghost
of the past.