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Two Poems from Mom

November 30, 2008

Mom checking in today with not one, but two poems.

The Last Line

the time to write
is the write time
holding your breath
waiting for an idea
to find a landing pattern
in your webbed brain
is a futile attempt
at grasping at a fleeting
moment in the spin lines
that surround the Earth
Earth Mother why do you
wonder how the words
make their way
to the porch where you
and your best friend wait
label it finished
before you
dance your dance
to the tune you hear
no matter how far
or near
arrows from the world
will find you
lost in the yarn ball
of thoughts
the last line
will find the end

Worry

I worry that no one
will want to read
what I write about
I worry that
they will not be able
to see my world
as I want them to
I worry that they
will not get caught
in the thoughts
that were in my mind
when my words found
their home
I worry that they will not
be able to unlock
the meaning of each word
I worry that I will
not be good enough
to deserve their time
when they have to
transend the page
full of my words
and free fall
into my net
of thoughts
I worry that my
my time is running out
and I am not finished
but, isn’t that
the way it always is?
I worry worry worry

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