When Sorrow Clings to Angel Wings

She made it through the Spanish flu
a million others died
but slipped and fell with scissors held
Oh, how her parents cried

Rorschach’s plume, still in bloom
soaks through her dressing gown
she raps on heaven’s pearly gate
but no one is around

When sorrow clings to angel wings
They might-as-well be clipped
So back to earth
To haunt the house
Where she tripped and slipped

Immortal klutz with lots of cuts
dark shadows on the wall
she roams the house without a spouse
wrapped loosely in her shawl



Reflective expression

Distant as a galaxy

You bend upward like a drunken sunflower

Like a broken saint

Unhinged and uninhabitable

Your to-dos laid out in front of you

Like a stone path through an open field

Of dusted daisies, fireflies

And dancing grass blankets

You drift across the floor

Like a ghost with a plan

Diligent, determined, and oblivious to the living

You go about

In and out of rooms

Where memories blend and fade

Into hutches, drapes, and hardwood floors