I followed it

I followed it to Chicago,
New York, Dubai and Paris
climbing the stairs of the Eiffel Tower in the rain.
she was behind me, panting but keeping my pace.
We looked towards le Jardin de Luxembourg,
the Champs Elysee, and finally towards the bridge
where lovers make promises
so often broken,
we went there and found the red lock,
now spray painted in yellow optimism
that no longer existed.
it was no longer here, nor was he,
at least I know, and she took my hand.
it's time to go home to look for it in an
early sunrise, a hot cup of mint tea or
the smile I see in your eyes.

The Little Decisions

the only ones we can make alone
shall I wear matching socks today,
chopped almonds or granola on my yogurt,
whether to ride my bike to work
or walk the dog.
shall I smile at you, expecting nothing in return
it depends on you.
no longer a small decision, the connected smiles
reverberate, amplify like a laser in a box
of humanity, is it safe.
it depends on you whether I'll order tea
or we'll write, the little decision of
when we will put down our pens and
you will walk away
that is not my decision
nor whether to walk the dog,
you are leaving in the dark,
nor whether I will eat granola,
you have eaten it all.
my small box of little decisions is so tiny
it would perch on the head of a pin.

Speaking Wine in French

after the champagne, the rose, the cabernet
French comes easier, the Gruyere, the
camembert de chevre, le saucisson, the words
flow easier, the grammar left far behind but
we understand each other through the haze.
Max, Lisa, Michele and me, Stephen
reaching for his share before retreating upstairs
to English, Michele corrects us the 17th
time and we nod agreeably, the Christmas lights
illuminate our happy faces, French is so much
easier in Wine.

No one wants to read about my pet

I avoid reading the posts about their pets,
even more, posts about the grandchildren.
no one wants to read about my pet
the one who comes when called except
when snatching mice from a hawks' claws,
yes, that one who chases tennis balls and
then drops them......
that black dog with the perfect glossy fur,
she chases after small children and barks
at hikers with poles and men with backpacks.
she is the perfect dog in spite of all that,
but you already knew all that.

Nope

 

Nope,

sorry, we have changed centuries

have you not noticed that women 

have their own names now, their own

bank accounts, their own

careers, their own everything,

their own souls and personalities,

possessions, houses, hearts.

we share them as we please

we are not part of a man,

we can stand alone

whatever we choose.

Corona Discharge

the electricity that flows between us
the spark in your eye
cloud to earth and back again.
your rage, my sorrow
the endless threads that connect
daughter to mother, son to father,
the beloveds.
corona discharge, the smell of ozone
fills our nostrils, your lightning
show delights our eyes.

sunrise with bella

orange and rose colored clouds
billowing over the horizon
peaceful, an occasional car
drives by, we run,
our feet pattering
on pavement