MOLD BLOSSOMS

winter water songs slash
upon my paper
on the sidewalk
in the grassy puddles
between dark wood shvings

sing sad songs in a January garden

slip into the sodden folds of the rode mold
big as a cabbage
fungus: white, chartuese
weighted firmly in mulch

encircled by a mourner' wreath
of long dead, still green summer leaves

accolades to life and death

suddenly this mold
blossoms heavily in my spirit

STONES

I had some stones

wading in Gull Lake for clear red agates
wondering what will I do with these when I grow up?
having toughened up summertime feet
I decided to throw away my Goodie Two Shoes away

I had some stones

lost in the shag carpet by stone gathering daughters.
Destroying four vacuem cleaners,
and my hopes of being a patient, calm mother.
Then there was my diamond that I took off and lost
or was it stolen?

I had some stones

inside of me, secret and agate red
I felt one day in the shower
dredges of pain kept until it calcified

now
no moe collecting of stones
no more having to have

THEN I WENT TO IRELAND

I suppose all kids collect stones
(I filled mason jars with them )

even in my sixties I have them in jars and dresser drawers
labradorite, carnelian, jasper, lapis, opal

I wondered why
and then I went to Ireland

I drove past the ruins of small stone houses
and knew my foremothers had lived in them.
Had cooked potatoes, fish and soda bread
and warmed themselves by the peat fire
( I even thought I could remember the sweet, pungent smell)

lifted the stones from the fields one by one
to make stone fences to keep the cow and sheep in.
felt stones beneath their feet as they climbed down to the sea for kelp

had gone to sleep to the crashing of the surf
( as I had loved the lapping of Gull Lake waves)
they too had wakened to the call of gulls

had conceived, birthed and died within those stones
and chiseled stone crosses for their loved ones' graves

I do not know their names or their faces
but I do know them
for they are embedded in me

FAREWELL

this is my play's last scene

my journey's last mile
my race,idly, yet quickly run
my span's last inch, my minute's last point

gluttonous death will instantly disjoint my body and my soul

I shall sleep a space

but my ever walking part shall see the Face
who already shakes my every joint

as my soul takes flight
my earth born body in the earth shall dwell

( apologies to John Dunne)S I

WHEN DEATH COMES

when death comes like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all her brtght coins from her purse
to buy me, and snaps her purse shut
I want to look upon all as scales of a fire breathing dragon
and each creature as precious

when it's all over I want to say that I learned to be amazed
that I learned to take the dragon in my arms
when it's over I don't want to wonder if it was worth it
I don't want to find myself frightened, or full of argument
I want to end up saying
earth was a great place to visit
but I wouldn't want to live there forever

(apologies to Mary Oliver)

WHEN DEATH COMES