Sing the Song

            Sing the Song

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All I ever wanted

Was somebody to love,

Somebody to love me,

So I got married, believing,

As our generation believed.

It took years

Before I realized

I do

Didn’t mean he did.

Now I’m an old hermit

And I’ve lived long enough

To know love is a gemstone

Cut with many facets.

Morning brought a stray

Rag-bag of bones to my door.

She’s part Siamese, part Calico.

I fed her, of course. Food

Is one facet of love.

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The Rain

            The Rain

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The rain-that’s-not-a-rain

Misted my face, upraised

To catch your spirit flying

With incoming geese. They

Alighted on the lake in pairs.

I walked home alone.

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RK Loves TD

            RK Loves TD

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A valentine heart on the bathroom wall

In the Seattle ferry terminal

Is no guarantee of love.

Does TD still hold RK

Tightly in his arms

And help her sleep at night?

Does RK wake up,

Rub sleep from her eyes

And smile the sunrise

Into the sky?

TD makes the coffee.

RK makes the bed.

Is breakfast today toast

With warm nuzzles

And promises of another night?

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Wounded Knee

Wounded Knee

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We, the proud, the patriotic

The powerful, God’s chosen people

On God’s chosen land.  In the black heart

It is all lies.  Our success bought and paid

By standing on somebody else’s shoulders.

Every American citizen

Should drive out to Wounded Knee,

Site of our last Battle of Acquisition.

Park in the lay-by, read the billboard.

Don’t hurry. Walk up to the Cemetery.

Contemplate the 1973 Occupation.

Breathe in the harsh, dusty empty.

Stay long enough

To feel the Spirit

Of No Surrender. 

Ah, the gifts we gave.

Useless land.  Alcohol.

Blankets. And lies.

 Slaves had a better deal.

Slaves had value, an All-American price tag.

Worth. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.

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Tonight Alone Rainy August Hungry Empty Cold

       Tonight Alone Rainy August Hungry Empty Cold

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Time was, a drink would have helped

Or a swing around the dance floor

No-name cowboy holding me tight

In his arms as he made plans for later.

God, I tried that solution more than once.

Hell couldn’t hold how bad I felt.

Tonight I’ll sit here on the beach.

Alone isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Liking who I am alone with

Opens some doors; closes others.

Nothing is the same tomorrow,

Even the moonlight in your eyes.

Red sky broods over the water.

Artists would say it doesn’t look real.

 Incoming tide will wash shadows away

Not caring if my heart is lying on the sand.

You never looked to see if I am real.

And the tears I cry are the same salt

Until the pull of the sea

Gets into my soul

Undermining my hold on

Sanity which was

Tenuous to begin with.

Healing will come, I’m told, meantime

Uncomfortable is a skin I wear.

Night winds sing the blues low and mean

Groping my body leaving me

Ragged torn wounded walking

Yet another mile with regret my crutch.

Evening empties out the daydreams

Making space for night voices and neon,

Party-time in the warehouse of my mind

Turning dreams into nightmares,

            Night-mares into noon,

Yellow sun punching out another day.

Clouds are my comforter, covering

Over my nakedness, hiding my fears that

Love is perennial as the grass

            And will sprout and grow and

Die again while I sit on the beach.

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