I've always wished
to live on an island.
No problem with sacrificing
deceit and shallow dialogue
for the song of gull and sanity
bowls of lye and cold
for pans of warmth
the soothing sand
The details to be worked
at a later date.
Older now, I can see the dream
emerging from the waves.
my winged circle shrinks to a point of decay
love fades and hope shuffles away.
Careful what you wish for old man
a wish may blossom into a grave.
Guess who is afraid of Darth Cay-der, the cat of all cats?
I am not kidding. Darth Cay-der frightens me, grandma.
She rolled her eyes, and then the dice. We are playing Monopoly.
Tonight in heaven.
Her photo fills me with glee but these heavenly visits are much better.
The angel began to tell me I had to leave.
I am arguing with her. Just a few more minutes, I plead.
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is on this morning, the angel says.
If you get up now, you can watch it before work.
She convinces me, so my eyes flutter open
Much to the relief of my dog who has a full bladder.
I open the door, so he can relieve himself.
But a blast of cold wind hits him in the face.
He backs up.
Maybe Darth Cay-der is out there too.
Darth Cay-der was a cat who understood Star Wars better than most.
She held R2D2 contests, and she was the most gracious 1970’s host.
She wore the best costumes, designed by fabulous Bob Mackie.
He was her next-door-neighbor. I am not lying, by crackie!
Darth Cay-der liked to breathe really heavy in her Darth Cay-der mask.
She was ominous and fierce some. Underneath she had her own flask.
I am pretty sure the silver container was filled with Darth Cay-der nip.
She was her own best friend. She did not care who saw her take a sip.
She shows up sometimes on my doorstep to play dress up with me.
I am always intimidated by her; she is a cat who is wild and free.
Her outer space cat-titude and I’mam the boss, sugar mama ways,
Has frightened me many a time on a number of horrifying days.
My mother has reported there is someone at the door right now.
I do not want to go look, for I think I just heard Darth Cayder’s yow!
Tell whoever it is I cannot go out today, I told my much amused mother.
Someone ran out dressed like Luke Skywalker. My fearless brother.
Fallen petals from a funeral wreath,
freshly dug-earth,
and a hint of rot…
linger in the graveyard air
and mingle with the living scents
of the spring breeze—
of lilac and honeysuckle,
and the more elusive smell
of memories and of prayers
They are present here,
as she sits beside his grave
Recalling with eerie detail
the lines of his face, the love in his eyes
And wonders with morbid thoughts
how those features have transformed now
As she contemplates
what lay beneath the earth’s crust
and what similar fate awaits her,
there comes a new smell among
the stones and moss—
An overwhelming smell of fear.
pink
coral
cascading
down
black
pearl
cay
lanterns
ignite
keep
water
demons
at
bay
moon
sweetened
music
is
what
lovers
play
till
the
stars
whisper
waves
into
sleep