POEM A DAY 2019

(Feeling good)

Feeling good
Is good
Being good
Is better

Sometimes I can’t squeeze nuance
Onto a poem
Sometimes I find half eaten chocolates
 in my bag of pretzels.
A gift from myself
To myself
I am being good
To myself
But I hide the chocolates
In the dresser
Behind the towels
So I don’t have to share
Which is not good
And does not feel good
I am clawing around in the dark
Eating dark chocolate peanut butter cups
In the hallway

Dashing

I saw your husband today
but he was very preoccupied
with conversations about work
and when I saw him again I asked about your son
but he kept walking and didn’t respond
and his best friend and I stood in the stairwell
and laughed and joked that
he was too excited about work to think about family
And then his friend walked away too

Group Chat

One parent misrepresents,
is excommunicated,
the other rushes into space,
has to fill you in,
and send you on your way
I've absorbed it as
light work,
taken for granted,
a fine polished sword,
sinking into the
soft flesh of life's work.
It's brutal, but it
does the job.
I don't know what
kind of parent I want
to be yet,
people say I'm kind,
though I'm heavy with
doubt,
forcing me into a v
here as I sit.
What would my child read first,
my posture,
my silence,
or my tolerance?