The Last Day April 29, 2013

I hate everything about

Euthanasia.

How can anything good come of intentionally smothering the light?

The light of memory, of quickness and of feeling;

The light that comes from seeing a thousand suns rise and fall,

Until this very last one. 

Why do we think it a kindness to take the voiceless,

And put a voice in their mouths that says, “Let me die,”

When, for all anyone knows, they want badly to live

As long as life will have them?

I feel like this night is too long. If it can’t be long enough

To say enough goodbyes, then its only purpose is pain. 

There are never enough nights. There is never enough time

To make up for all the things we – I – took for granted.

Never enough “I’m sorry” and “thank you.”

Because you are so beloved, and so shining,

Tomorrow feels nothing short of murder.

I will be an accomplice who stands by, helpless to gather back in your light

As it pours away.

I will kill you. I will take the light from your eyes, from this world,

And everyone will say it was the right thing to do.

Day Twenty-Five April 25, 2013

25. Full moon tonight.

Hard to remember it’s only a mirror,

Suspended in a big, big sky.

A big sky so small, the light from its other side

Comes to trouble our darkness.

How frightening, to be the moon!

We hide behind Earth’s shadow, but she

Oh, she gazes straight into the Sun’s face,

And the shine we see is the brilliance 

That comes as she comes undone.

Day Twenty-Four April 24, 2013

Today’s prompt was to write a self-portrait poem inspired by anagrams of one’s name. The words I ended up using were: A Zombi Meekly Hell Let

 

24. In case of zombie apocalypse,

I will not run into the street to give ’em hell,

Or meekly let the end take me.

When the news reports fall in line –

the strange virus, the attacks, the flickering of the lights –

I will open up my window and step out onto the roof.

With a cup of coffee and a blanket against the rain,

I will lay back and watch the stars

with all the aggression I can muster.

To hell with these monsters – let them come,

I will not stand meekly by

and let them take all the beauty from this world.

Day Twenty-Three April 23, 2013

23. I think

the great plan must allow a pet for every person to grow up with,

and a person for every pet to grow old with.

When it first happened to Sam – this lightening of bones and body,

I was too young to know what it meant.

Now that Mindy, too, is becoming lighter with every breath,

it seems that the burdens she shouldered as a young cat

– as a friend to a young person –

are shedding away in great clumps like winter fur;

all the tears I poured into her shoulder,

the secrets,

the many nights awake with only the June bugs for company,

are becoming part of myself again. It’s only the old tears, recycled,

that come when I dwell upon the years we’ve spent together.

Day Twenty-Two

I have an idea for tomorrow, but it is now late. I will instead present a haiku inspired by a visit to a very special lady today:

 

22. Venerable cat

Holds court before her subjects.

Forever yes, BUB!

Day Twenty-One April 21, 2013

21. All ready to go; I have iced tea in case we get thirsty,

Pens and notepaper if inspiration rolls in through the open window,

A camera, so that the things we see in the rearview mirror

Will always be close. And the one thing he wants me to have ready

is a place to park when we get there.

Day Twenty April 20, 2013

20. Friends in a dark room,

when they arrive, children, homework and bills are stripped off at the doorstep;

they go lightly into an atmosphere swimming

with inside jokes and secrets.

Friends in a dark room, watching TV together,

have no sense of the concept of distance.

they did, once,

but that too waits at the door, and will wait awhile longer.

Day Nineteen April 19, 2013

19. Seeking snail sitter. Must have the patience of (unsalted) butter, the changeability of jade, and the grace of a weeping willow. Admiration for aesthetics appreciated, but not required.

Day Eighteen

A little late because I got caught up in watching Lil Bub & Friendz, which is possibly the sweetest thing I have watched in my WHOLE LIFE.

 

18. Hello to the spring rain with its gentle fingers drumming on the roof

Hello to the rain which churns the world into green,

and draws the tulip from the soil.

Hello to misty mornings and muted sunlight,

to dew on sidewalks newly-minted in fallen blossoms. 

Hello again to the earthworm and honeybee —

we’ve missed the humble magic of you and all that you do.

Hello to Spring!

Day Seventeen April 17, 2013

17. Today I am writer’s block.

I am the tenderness-lacking of numb fingers,

the taste of ash,

the wolf who fell asleep at the door.

I am the robber of passion. I am the painter of grays.

You thought I was a specter made up only to scare,

and here you are,

scratching at my walls,

pleading Let me out and

Let me in.