Crawl in slow
the warmth
the sun
ice to slush
water to dust
my skepticism into trust
that you are on your way
and somewhere under white
and gray
flowers hold on tight
and wait to bloom
please get here soon
please get here soon
I see you through cracked windshields
my dark sunglasses and
prairie grasses
trees that cannot hold their leaves
and drifts that will not stay…
dirt roads that carry on that way.
You wave to me
through barbed fence wire
old tractor tires
and houses with nobody home
things that could not be repaired…
things that were left sitting there.
We stretch along horizon lines
and dip below the buttes
your mud stuck to my boots
a piece of you you’re pleased to share
a piece I’m pleased to take from you…
your sky an ever changing hue.
And you see me through rearview mirrors
windows down and open doors
places I have gone before
my headlights through the dust I stir
how quick I am to roam….
you rise up to meet me home.
Crumbs drop to your kitchen floor
and then the tears
a little more
days that seem to last too long
you reach for him…
a girl needs a dog
Words unsaid to anyone
he warms your feet
you softly hum
listening to your quiet songs
big ears, big heart…
a girl needs a dog
Things that go bump in the night
slamming doors
a stupid fight
someone to understand who’s wrong
you climb in bed…
a girl needs a dog
Morning light through window glass
open up
run, run fast
a friend to always come along
more than anything…
a girl needs a dog
No matter what…
When the thaw comes
I’ll rip off these clothes
burn my wool sweaters
and boots with the fur
hide the blankets away
and cool down the tea
let the sun touch my bare skin
set the animals free
drown my scarves in the water that rushes the draw
and scream all the cold out my lungs…
when the thaw comes…
when the thaw comes…
when the thaw comes…
It’s Saturday
It’s late
and we should be in town
Singing to the music from the speakers above the crowd
It’s Saturday
Your hands behind your head
kicked back the way you do
the dog curled up in bed
It’s Saturday
And I’m saying something like “We’re old”
as I slide into my slippers and your sweater
because it’s cold
It’s Saturday
The T.V.’s on
I flip through the stations
you boil water on the stove
And we could warm up the car
or give a friend a call
It’s the weekend after all
But it’s Saturday
and there’s no way
I would trade the nook of your arm
for great seats and half drunk beer
Yes, It’s Saturday
and there’s no way
you could get me out of here
In this stark white world
I come to greet you
through fallen snow
that drifts to change the land I know
up hills
and across a frozen sea
you meet me there.
You see me bundled to the brim and wonder
what a girl is doing out here without a proper coat.
So you come closer
so I can bury my face in yours, thick and full
grown long to keep the cold at bay.
I breathe in the dust and sun and sweat–
the pieces of summer you’ve kept in your skin.
No, I have no coat like this.
Your mane is the wind,
your feet the dirt we miss.
Your breath the sweet green grass,
nose still the warmest touch…
your ears the slightest noise
easy boys…
I’m the only sound you hear
now look me in the eyes
so I can see the life we lived…
before the winter white set in
To flinch, to twitch, to leap and play
To catch a string as it’s pulled away
To tweak
To flip
To scat
To be a cat
Ears permanently perked straight up
A tail that sweeps, sleek legs that strut
Rough tongues
they lick
and lap
To be a cat
Striped and plain, spotted, plaid
Mischievous, obnoxious, bad
Scraggly
Fluffy
Fat
To be a cat
Shadow lurking, eyes that glare
Curtain hanging way up there
Quick
and smart
and way too fast
to catch them in the act
Oh to be a purring, overbearing,
whisker tickling, bare feet licking,
curiously lovely,
oh so cuddly,
naughty
Cat
Thank you to Jingle at Promising Poets Parking Lot for giving “until we’re warm again” the Perfect Poet Award last week. Thank you for creating a warm supportive space for poets!
As part of the award acceptance, I would like to nominate another poet Lynnaima who has submitted her poem about words titled “The Best There Is” to the Promising Poets Parking Lot.
Onward poetry!
I can’t be your warmer breeze
no, I can’t be her right now
I can’t be your brown worn hands
damp hair, your sweaty brow
I can’t be the evening mist
or the clouds that roll on by
I can’t be your blades of grass
the lightning in your sky
I cannot be barefoot
or younger than today
can’t be your rain boots or your fishing pole
or make the summer stay
But I can stand beside you
under skies of gray and white
and on the long and starlit nights
I’ll be your wool cap and your overcoat
your coffee and the broth in which your dumplings float
I will wrap my arms around where your scarf has been
wrap them tight around your neck until we’re warm again
Thank you.
I raise my head and say these words to the sky, to the stars above hidden by the clouds and the snow falling down.
To the man beside me, deep in a dream, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of this night.
To the wild earth beneath my feet, frozen and hard and strong and sleeping too.
To the music that brings a song to my voice and the passion to sing it out loud.
To the coyotes that howl and take in the air and remind me what lonesome really is…
…to a family who shows me, every day, what lonesome is not.
To a world that holds darkness to help us know the beauty of the light…
…and the fragile purpose of a life well lived…
Thankful—I’m alive.
Thank you—you’re alive.
Give thanks—we’re alive…
…and together in another day.
Late Autumn
Oh, I remember.
I remember you
sneaking in with the cool down,
catching a lift on the summer breeze.
Yes, I’ve seen this before.
I recall
how you turn the trees to ghosts,
the leaves to dust beneath our boots
and make a liar out of the sun.
It wasn’t that long,
but you’ve settled in again
and the beasts trade their sleek attire
for wooly, rugged coats
and prepare for the chill you bring.
They are brave against you
and I am sure you won’t stay long…
you never do (so fleeting, so reliably unreliable you).
From green to brown to white…
I remember
your mystery…
your obscurity…
…back again.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch... 
