A strangeness

Here is a strangeness: on May 20, 2009 she had a surgery. That day, and the days and months leading up to it, she had memory screaming. Now, on May 22, 2010--one year and two days later--she will have another kind of invasion. Memory, in fits and starts, screams again.

And the lilacs bloom in all their glory and the forget-me-nots in wild abundance and full view. Their seed: forget-me-not forget-me-not forget-me-not.

In the dandelion's design

In the dandelion's design is white fluff

      to catch the wind

      to delight the child

      to carry the seeds

  

Bones

Bones
carry
memory
carry
seeds
carry
me

Seven

(On the seventh day, she danced sharp edges, playfulness, chaos and wild.
   And she rested.)

Glow

Thinking of the poem, Constellations, by Steven Heighton 

Would the child who put glow-in-the-dark stars all over her body, soaked up the light and danced in the dark, please step forward?

Courage

Many times
given the choices
I have
(I feel)
no choice
but to be a warrior

(something
about honesty
courage
a donning of
rising in
searching
for strength).

Dress

I bought a confident dress.
(I am thirty-four-years-and-eleven-months older than a beginning
and both older and younger than this.)
The dress wears the wispy impression of flowers on it: black  on white.
In this instance, it is complimentary.

Grief

and what could be more comforting than to fold grief like a blanket...      --Mary Oliver


Sometimes grief that was folded like a blanket thrusts out of the blanket box or the back of the top shelf of the unpopular cupboard.
Sometimes grief spreads wide and throws itself over me, BOO!, 
like the engulfing costume of a linen ghost. 

Make-up Lesson

I had a make-up lesson.
I have a vibrant worn shaped face.
I wanted to learn subtleties of being a warrior.

Seeds

Seeds from another time
that floated in the wind or whirled.
They are now sprouting.