Concrete

Twenty, ten more pounds of iron tool
crush foreign rocks into jagged parts
and reveal sparkle flecks, just pretty enough
to tuck the pieces in my overall pocket

Connecting with your soccer form
I fall to the dust covered ground
where my knee becomes scarred rock
and then you’ve left on me your mark

Pushing and pulling one rock pile here
then dirt, then powdered mix on top
and we drag shovels through the mound
until it becomes thick drying mud

Then, the lines of gray across my face
bring a false strength to my being
for a weakness settled in my stomach
when your fingers first touched my cheek

We lean against a concrete slab and
sit on the stairs drinking fizzy fruit drinks
in this faraway town made of concrete
that’s where I first saw you, saw you

When we chipped away at the drought earth
the subtle changes reminded me so much
of the tiny phrases and terms we broke apart
on the descent to the concrete strip

Concrete is made of the rocks we broke
and the way you turn my solid words to powdered sounds
and the water from a rainy kiss
and the chemicals between us
and we toss it all together
we sink our shovels and twist
others sink in shovels and twist
then we sink in and twist

Our Second Kiss

It’s a moonlight miracle
I made it to my door
after turning the lock,
I sank to the floor.
I tried pacing but
my legs felt weak;
so I dialed Abbie
but I couldn’t speak.
Finally, my face
lit into a grin.
I turned to the sky
and asked Him, “Again?”

Oatmeal

My body is now oatmeal
My legs have turned to jam
My heart is soon to keel
My lips are forming “Damn!”
My stomach felt the drop
My eyes ceaselessly blink
My lungs are sure to pop
My curls are in a kink
My hands tremble like fear
My arms they limply fall
My mind is gone I hear
and I’m not sick at all

There were plenty of ways to go back there and I chose the footpath.
I knew that a man had just been shot in the neighboring town.
We were stopped by the Policia and some travelers.
They searched me, stripped me down, cleared me, handed me my things,
and told us to find a partner and form a line.
Each pair wrapped their arms around one another.
The old man with white hair spoke soft and clear:
“Leave your possessions on the ground here.
Your partner will be there to save you,
sometimes to be saved by you,
so hold his hand tightly,
and if you do die
you can then have
the feeling of
not being
alone.”

And with that, we walked into the woods along a barbed-wire fence.

Not the Devil yet

So, I looked at her, and explained quickly
(quickly was the mistake, what gave it away)
That this guy she once loved was in bed
With this new girl, crazy under the sheets
It made crazy get under her skin, and I knew it.
The problem was I said it fast – a reaction –
It came too soon to be truth and she knew it.
This girl was a liar too, which made it hard to
Slip stuff past her, she called me out and kept
Tellin’ me to “qwit lion!” just like that with
A smile, like the whole world was just a joke.
And I did stop telling all those lies for a little bit.
Or at least, I toned it down some to suit her.
That is, until she started in on my heart.

I never know what to do with you,
But I have friends in low places too.

The Nurse

The lift they called it.
She in the white sweater
slid a blue nylon pad
beneath his 68 year frame.
His shamed eyes looked to me.
strapping this hook to that
and this loop around here,
they cranked a lever
til he sank, cradled into place
like a stork, like a baby
she swung him to the air
above his wheelchair
and placed a blanket
on his lap, on his thighs
but never over knees and legs.
On the red blanket,
a woman with dyed red hair
had embroidered
“freedom isn’t free.”

Hold Still

She fell into this home with tears.
She poured herself slowly into
my side of the town, band room, church,
I loved her then for her satin hair
and later for her nose and teeth.
She grew in us to find a sun
that lit her path as she graced ours.
One day, I found myself without
her button shoes and river eyes.
When I turned around years later,
after breaking my first spirit,
I felt I’d lost my baby pink.

I’d lost my red, my shoes, my white.
I’d lose my fire, I’d lose my ice.
I’d found the numbness fear instills.
I’d find the coolness of the slice.

Baby pink found me on the floor,
she pulled me up, dusted my sleeve,
on the way home she made meswear
to get rid of the things that bleed.

She left her light there in my chest,
pulled me to her car, drove away,
Showed me that darkness at its best
never covers the color love.

Then she carried me to the store
bought brown sugar and muffin mix.
She would sweeten me up, she swore,
so that I could make it the week.

Pink lady grew up in warm rooms
with pink women surrounding her.
She put her soft life in my way
‘tween the metal world and stone wall.
Before the frozen wave of love,
after the hot sting of distance,
her cotton hands held mine tightly.
Never one to neglect His birds,
she drew me back into His nest.
And when the final hurt crept in,
she pulled a blanket over my ache
and wrapped her arms to hold me still.