Debra on February 13, 2010

She was so beautiful tonight,
happy and alive
with that lipstick and rouge...
we laughed
at the rarity of it all

like children playing dress up
in a make-believe world
fun
but
not for everyday.

I was so happy to be embraced
kissed
by her
in the terminal
waiting for the plane
to separate us.

Another chapter...
no
not nearly that long;
maybe another page...
no
not even
another paragraph.

Perhaps a comma
in a complex sentence...
apart again,
but
together soon
as always.

The Owl, whom I knew for one day and now know forever

The yellowest yellow
I have ever seen,
huge round eyes
stared at me
almost unblinking
while her life ebbed away.

We found her sick and injured,
young
just half grown
unable to fly
barely able to walk.

Fearful
but unable to escape,
she allowed me
to pick her up
treat her for parasites
dribble food into her mouth

but it wasn't enough.

I saw that yellow
one last time
when she looked through me
then simply stopped
being.

She was too young
ever to have loved
to court
to mate
to provide for her young
but she knew how to die.

She left the world with grace
with elegance even...
those beautiful
all-seeing eyes
closing slowly
but not tightly

as if to declare
I am going
but
I am still here
I was always here
I will always be here.

Watch me glide.
Listen to me hoot.
Feel my eyes
seeing you
through the darkness.

(A little nonsense about) Feeding William Paul

I helped William Paul eat today
one bite for him
one bite for me.

His bite,
a combination of
strained spinach
baby oatmeal
and mashed apricots,
drooped onto his cheeks
in a slowly crawling stream

then sloshed over
his chin
his shirt
his bib
his pants
the highchair
the dog's fur
the cat's paw
the floor
and was finally carried off with cheers (it's absolutely true)
shouted by
a small army of ants.

They were, I suppose, getting used to waiting under his chair.

My bite
went neatly into my mouth
just like bites are supposed to do...
at least until
I glanced over at his grin
still covered in green, brown, and orange smush
glumping down
his chin
his shirt
his bib
his pants
the highchair
the dog's fur
the cat's paw
and the floor.

Then my laugh
burst out
along with a disgusting amount of various foods
and
the ants
cheering even more loudly (I swear)
were happy
once again.

Why I'm an Atheist

Ten years old
and dead
how can you not be angry
how can you not cry
how can you not rage
and how can you think
anything like a god
could possibly exist?