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HER REALM
The child carefully packsthe sand into the red bucketand dreams of the castle sheis building, the one in whichshe can be the princess.Her parents know the tidewill soon carry her castle awayand with it her dream, but theydo not stop and wonder whylittle girls always dream of beingprincesses and never queens,for mothers of little girlsare…
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AFTER THE UNVEILING
I threw the first shovelof dirt on your wooden coffin. I expected you to protestthe sullying of the polished wood, or to call out for your mother,or introduce us to your long dead husband,but all we heard was the thunk and chunkof the clayey earth dancing off the cover,while you maintained silence. First published in…
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ONCE TOO MANY
He remembered his mother taking him to the opera once. It was an experience he hoped never to repeat in life and, man y years on, he had been successful in not doing so again. The opera was sung in English but he felt that only made it worse, for if was was sung in…
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BENEDICTION
This is the benedictionI was never given the opportunityto offer, the blessing of a childfor his parents, those who are woveninto his genes, those that cannotbe denied, those without whomthere could be no thought of benediction.I bless the mother who carried meand handed me to the adoption agencyfearing she could not offer methe life she…
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FORGOTTEN
In the great cemeteryin a corner reserved for thatostentation only wealth can buyI am struck by one massivemarble walled mausoleum.Who lies within is of noimportance to anyone otherthan the ones who lie within.Small graves in common bulksections are dotted with freshor faded flowers waitingto nourish the soil, or is itthe souls of those who lie…
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THIS IS NOT: AN APOLOGY
This is an apology I never wantedor thought I would have to write butnow, my grandchildren, it is necessary. This is not the world I wantedto leave to you, what I had hopedwas a world at peace, a world whereyou could be anything without beingjudged or shunned, where wordshad meaning and books were treasures. Instead…
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A TROIS
Each night I crawl under the sheetscurled against the woman I loveand beside me slips your ghost.For sixty years you were no morethan a fleeting dream faceless, nameless,an infrequent visitor to my galleryof hopes, desires, and wishes.You never had a face, did Ihave one you could remember beforeI was plucked from you too soon, youlurking…
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GOOD?
She used to ask me if I had a good day.It was a loaded question for there wasno good answer in her view, it was reallyjust rhetorical, something you saidto avoid talking about your ownfeelings and emotions at any given moment.She expected me to complain about allthat did not go as planned, whereuponshe could roll…
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SEPARATING
We sometimes speak of continentspulling apart, land bridges severed,the route taken to get here now gone,no going back, no back to go to.The continent of my youth, myyoung adulthood is gone, recededinto the fog of fading memory, and Iam now a prisoner of sorts on thisnew continent of life, moving evermore quickly to an unavoidable…
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IN PASSING
I remember heras the little girl wantinga birthday pony I see a womanfinding her way in the worldalways beautiful I want to forgetthe still far too young womantaken by cancer
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an old writer and his words 