the Northern Wallflower

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The day after yesterday…

the lilacs were gone.

Then the iris.

One by one, they were, also,  all departed.

All, but the northern wallflowers…that is.

Never do the gods account for the ever so green…up on the ridge.

This is where the grassy knolls have always replenished me.

I come here daily to see what it is you see.

No, you are not just a simple plot of trees.

What has been, seen daily, yearly, at your limbs hand?

The growth so measurable…

Yet, your roots have begun a different kind of land.

 ∞

In deepest sincerity,

my strength has atrophied.

But my vigor…as I watch your vastness…

I admit…is thought of differently.

In freshened mind, as you have portrayed…

I cannot walk this walk…only to return to my cave.

Though in beckoning winds I may…become altered.

A small resolution should not be what I am after.

 ∞

Came fall, ever green will turn to rust.

Came winter, your poignancy will become a changeling, yet, robust.

Sheltering all who follow you.

Giving the time to renew.

 

 

 

 

Lily

The warmth of lily pads had beckoned me back.

Had I known I lost my way…would I have come here to stay?

So far down the broken walls and Morrill Ponds…I had strayed.

A graceful, swoop of Blue Heron, caught my entanglements and, my manner of being easily…dismayed.

Hidden inlets and their flowers…had rosined up the bow to a bullfrog’s song.

Sun bathing Snap Turtles felt no need to run from my dusty, collective thoughts.

In the echo of my dusty self indulgence….

Could it be I just needed to get out of my own way?

Riding Shotgun

He is, after all, ‘a restless spirit on an endless flight.’

The noblest of companions.

With a side of heroic proportions.

While laying thick…in the purest delights.

Unaware to anything, I secretly watch my sidekick…

As he sets forth to ride shotgun.side kick 2

No high-priced gadgets.

No over stuff toys for fun.

Gratification, always raw.

Peace of mind, forever new.

My four-legged child’s first day at school.

 

13 Steps to 15 years

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Drunk, dime store, damsel, relishing in her own distress.  Hanging on to the coattails of women…she would never possess.  Always the maid of honor to…a friend of a friend, like a stylish cosmetic commercial of let us make pretend.  In patchwork denim, she had been a provider of words dishonest and deeds…hurtful.

Could it have been the year after the year to remember?  So long ago, the damsel could not recall…

‘had the stamp on my ass been…return to sender or lyrics from ‘love me…not tender?’

Either way, that ain’t no ‘lady’ had been the roll call.  Friendly, but damaged.  Uniquely attractive…with a soul that had been a bit mismanaged.

In a church hall, decorated in fervently overstated sayings…

Cute but troubled, the not quite young Miss in frump, had been eager for sex not dating!  A high-priced escort…would be a description that is not overstating.

It had been a women’s meeting of hopefully recovered drunks.  Hens in a disillusioned hen-house, talking trash…gossiping junk!

Across the basement storage space.  Nearest the door…to make a quick escape.  There she sat.  Innocently unaware of her sweetmeat charm.

Many elders on the road of recovery, warned, ‘hey, of the vulture…be wary!’

We all are aware how this tale ends.  A lift up to the 13th step means not lovers…maybe not even friends.  Now I am not one to point fingers at glass houses or over indulge in anything but humility.

After all, it has been 15 years since the last hangover and I parted ways.  Easy does it is typically my manner and my sober way.  And, much as I like to avoid my wrongs.

And, much as I like to avoid my wrongs.  As guessed, this is my swan song!  Please do not use my ‘fragile’ handle with care recovery as nothing but wrong.  13 steps, typically, can go nowhere but down.  Down to the gates of hell…Where many have been known to never break addiction’s spell.

Yet, for once in my stewed, free-spirited life…I seemed to do something right.

It has been 15 years and I have never felt cleaner.  My favorite addict fell in love with the sober dreamer.

Can’t say as, bad behavior and I will forever be done…

Yet, my love has taught me to want to be a…better person.