June gloom

June gloom, but not in my heart –– clear, sunny, warm. Leonard’s home from NYC,
I’m off to Puerto Rico soon, Flora’s happy, all’s well.

Pelosi

Pelosi slow-walking Trump’s NAFTA deal; I’m slow-walking the tennis matches,
interrupting them to do this and other things. Pressure on.

Stress galore!

Stress galore! I’ve done what I’m supposed to but no word from FLP until today,
an automated message they’ve received my stuff. Finally!

The perfect three lines

The perfect three lines I wrote in my forgotten dream. The perfect word I needed
found in someone else’s poem. The perfect phrase in a song.

I shared what was left

I shared what was left of Cathy’s brownies with my Saturday morning meeting.
When the secretary said I had brought them, everybody clapped.

Leonard left last Saturday

Leonard left last Saturday, now it’s Friday, I’m starting to feel sola, perduta, abandonata!
Is five days the outside limit for being away?

In my comic book

In my comic book, people put on tight-fitting masks that looked like other people.
Later, when they tried to take them off, they couldn’t.

When I'm with a strong personality

When I’m with a strong personality or watch one in a movie or on TV, I morph
into that person for an hour or more afterwards, on the inside.

Some people

Some people want social contact only on their own terms, shying from outside invitations.
I’m maybe like that, but don’t like it from them!

Susan and I had lunch

Susan and I had lunch, at Juniper in Ridge Spring. We said good-bye
because Leonard and I were moving to LA. But good-bye meant good-bye.

I'm reorganizing my days

I’m reorganizing my days so I’ll have three days free each week,
Monday and Thursday will contain all my outside activities. Finding my way.

3 sisters

3 sisters: corn, beans, squash. Corn strips nitrogen from soil; beans protect,
replace nitrogen; squash leaves reduce weeds, deter pests.

The asteroid that destroyed

The asteroid that destroyed God’s last (that is, the one before ours) creation
made a plume of hot debris that reached halfway to the moon.

At last a pretty day in May!

At last a pretty day in May! Mother’s Day pink roses have drooped
except for the two tallest ones, Leonard has plucked to save pink petals.

They call it an atmospheric river

They call it an atmospheric river, which means big rain all up and down the coast.
Flowing over us from Hawaii and under which we drown.

This morning the dove

This morning the dove is on our railing, her call reminding me, as the call of doves
always does, of Oxford in the misty, moisty morning.

The dove has moved

The dove has moved to other nestings, other railings. May Gray lifts, late afternoon.
I dream of evil, talking rocks & cowboys leaning in.

We stood in the corners

We stood in the corners of a tilted floor for our photo, one of us huge, the other tiny,
we slid down an elephant’s trunk, we punched Trump.

Been a mother for fifty-one years

Been a mother for fifty-one years, a grandmother for fourteen years come June,
how about you? Sunday, the day of the Museum of Illusions.

Twenty-three years married

Twenty-three years married, thirty-two years since he moved in, thirty-seven
since we began to see each other after my divorce from Stephen.