at night

Lying on his side
one arm stretched under
the pillow
the other resting on his
knee, bent- mantis like

I listen-
breath in and out
catching, softly snoring,
a slight smile crossing
his lips

I see the little boy
he once was
sweet and pure
his cares simple
Easy

And I fall
for him
all over
again.

kk

Thursday Works

I sit with trembling hands, typing words in this blank square, wondering where in the world they will go when I press publish post. I won't even say how many tries it took for the blank square - actually a rectangle - to appear.

My Face

he said

here you go sweetheart

and smiled

as he held my food order

so I looked around

you know the look

the one where you

turn left

then right

and realize the person

is staring right at you

still smiling

how sad

how tiring that

my first thought was

he must be paid

to say nice things to everyone

no matter the face

My Face

If my face were a cloud in the sky
What would I make of it?

Would I look up and recognize myself
Or would the configuration look abstract and unfamiliar?

Is my face truth
And I an imposter
Or do we match?

Would my fluffy likeness be more familiar to me
Than the one that looks back in the mirror?

Which is truth?
Where is the recognition?

Does my face translate
Who I am?

Does my face make me
Who I am?

Or is it just a face
Just a cloud passing through and changing shapes and shades as it drifts on the wind?

Okay--I'm on my way out the door to see a movie....

THANKS, Kathi!

I understand that what we do from here is add our pieces in this window?

My Face

On my face
you see
the time my brother
Scarred me
visible above my lip

The place where
Tears
Fell
in my
Darkness
And the other
from when I walked
Away

The smile lines
carving one lone
Dimple

Love’s mirror
is in these eyes
of Mine
Worth the
Pain
Worth this Life
I live.

kathi