Thursday, March 26, 2009

I Don't Sleep Alone

I take my phone to bed, sleep with it clutched in my hand
Curled up, thumb almost in my mouth
[or perhaps, phone almost in my mouth. A substitute?]
so I feel close, closer to someone, anyone, everyone,
to you.
Lying here, waiting for the ring, I fall asleep.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

19 years, 17-1/2 hours ago

Happy birthday, Leebo. Your dad and I didn't want to go to that party anyway.

Sleep is Elusive

We fall asleep
making love. Wake up. Take up
right where we left off.

A Rose by Any Other Name is a Rock

You can't hate a rock
for being a rock instead
of a frying pan.

Things, people don't change,
not intrinsic, not inside.
Except when they do.

I'm not weak sick deaf
stupid blind silent. Not now.
All of me is here.

New me? Same me? More.
Body craves sleep. Go away.
Truth hurts. Tears come back.

It doesn't have to be
like this. It can be easy.
Huh. You won't let it.

You can't justify
cruel. Your heart is a rock,
breaks my windows.

Thursday, March 19, 2009

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream


I have nightmares, but
I wake up. I'm already
awake? Dear god, no.

and now

If this is a dream,
don't wake me. Please. Monday will
be here soon enough.

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Happy Birthday, Bubbe

Oh, Andi, right on your due date! My mom would have been so happy...

Thursday, March 5, 2009


The motorcycle's buzz woke her. Her ear followed it, wondering where it was going, where all the cars were going, with a flood of envy.

Almost time to get up. Her cellphone, clutched in her hand all night, was quiet. Changing her number had stopped the barrage, the daily, then hourly, then almost constant onslaught of calls she'd dealt with by not answering. They couldn't reach her now.

Time to get up, maybe get back in the car or maybe not. It was a luxury now, not a necessity, being in the car. Now, she could choose, decide each day if she was getting in the car or not. Now, she had options. No more running.

Turning to the body next to her, smiling, she kissed the back of a damp neck, the spine, the small of the back, the firm butt. Rolled closer and held it against her, nuzzling her bedmate's ear.

"Wake up, sweeting. It's Valentine's Day, love. We've got things to do!"

"Hmm? What? Is it time to get up already? Can't we stay in bed today?"

"Oh honey, maybe for a little while longer, but we have things to do."

"Just a few minutes..."

"Okay, fine."

"I love you, mommy."

"I love you, too, baby. I do."

Grey Sky in Mourning, Sailors Take Warning

She stared at the phone. Silent. If wishing could make it so, it would ring, and she'd hear that familiar voice, that warm greeting.

But wishing couldn't make it so.

She was grateful for small favors. Right now, if she wished...


She could, of course she could, pick up the phone herself and dial, key in the number long since deleted from her speed dial.

She wouldn't.

Not pride, sense. Been down that stupid clinging to a dead dream road too many times, now she beat it into submission. It was just a dream, another bad dream in a series of bad dreams and she wasn't going to let the pang of familiar resurrect it. She recognized this sudden ache for what it was: the vain attempt of a frightened psyche clinging to the past.

Rereading the letters, examining the artifacts of a non-relationship which melted at the first sign of rain, looking at it head-on, no frills, cold truth looking to see what?

That it was all in her head.

The enacted reality is reality.

Until it isn't.

She'd stopped, stopped without even realizing she had stopped, it had been so gradual a stopping, a little bit less every day, weaning by fits and starts, detours, backtracks, and one day, she'd given it up, startled that it had been weeks since she'd even had to think about forcing herself to stop thinking, stop treading that old road. It was over, but now, this minute, it was back and had to be beaten down again. She had to be strong, not give in to the status quo.

Do you remember your last kiss? Can you remember if you don't know it's the last one?

She looked at the handful of trinkets, things which had seemed so precious at the time, tawdry, painted tchotkes, no particular thought in their purchase, as common as their drugstore origin. Pushed the pang away and dropped them in the can.

Sighing, she tied the trash bag shut, put it by the door to go out later. New interests absorbed her, filled the void. What started as anything better than alone had morphed. Indeed, they more than filled the void, they filled parts of her she didn't know were hollow.

The no-longer black morning sky made her smile. A day and a night and a day and a night and more, many more, not empty and not filled with cotton candy, either. The tears surprised her, rolling into the corner of her grin with each blink, and she wiped them with the hem of her shirt.

Tonight, she'd wish upon a star, a new wish, different. If you always wish for what you've always had, you'll always get what you've always got, but if you wish for something new, something different, well, anything can happen. Anything at all.

Now, she'd watch the sun rise.

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Cannondale Quick Essay

Living in a household with multiple adults and one car can be a hardship in Central Florida,where public transportation ranges from poor to non-existent. When I was hired as the branch manager of a business a few miles from where I lived, I couldn’t justify the expense of buying, fueling, maintaining and insuring another car. So, after not being on a bicycle for thirty years, I grabbed my daughter’s $80 department store special and pedaled away.

Fifteen minutes on that baby helped me transition from “mom” to “staff,” while the ride home decompressed me back to “mom.” On weekends, eight to ten mile jaunts on the local bike paths, waiting for the rest of the world to wake up, waving to the dog walkers and joggers refreshed me. Errands were combined or eliminated depending on whether or not a place was close enough to ride. I changed my shopping, banking and work habits, switching to electronic banking and sending work out on the internet instead of by mail. Every expedition became multipurpose in a conscious effort to conserve time and fuel. Biking also increased my awareness of what I ate, the effect various foods had on me, my body, and on my children. Laziness had replaced my love of cooking over the years, but fresh vegetables and alternative whole grains resumed their rightful prominence, pushing out the packaged and fast foods that had crept into our diets. Red meat, which is so costly in the amount of grain and gas it takes to get from hoof to table, was eliminated. In fact,
two of my children became vegetarians as their awareness of the food cycle increased.

Improving on my riding skills, pushing to see what my body was capable of, what mountains,real and metaphorical, it could conquer. I started to proselytize the joys and benefits of biking. I learned to trust me, my body, feelings, senses and made other life changes, too numerous to list as a result of that one small decision, to bike back and forth to work.

Monday, March 2, 2009

oh wow....

i won.

i wrote an essay. i rewrote that essay. i rewrote that essay at least five times.
[how biking has impacted your life, your worldview and the environment]

i entered the contest.

i won.

i said exactly the same thing i said when the royal palm was announced: oh shit!

i am impressed, amazed, astounded.

my ass is going to be so happy in the saddle of my new bike.

[see the nov/dec 2008 issue of road magazine,]

now i have to sign up for the MS150 Citrus Tour