May 3 - Still missing Mom....She would have been 95 today.

April was an interesting month.

April 1, April Fool’s Day, I helped my former husband celebrate his 73^rd birthday. He was 37 when I met him, and a party would likely have included a bevy of friends in those times. Things change; sometimes drastically. When I received an email from him inviting me to join him for a drink, coffee, whatever… to keep him from observing the day alone, I felt bad. We had a lovely time reminiscing with our dear mutual friend, Jim. This news will surprise some people but I’ve always felt that Breeze got robbed. I did, too, of course, but if you could see him now, having a hard time walking, hearing, multiple health issues that can’t really be solved. I’m the lucky one. Whoever would have seen that back there in the mid-‘90’s, when my life crumbled, over and over again and people disappeared off our radar like gypsy spies.

Some of these poems are for Breeze, but not many. Most of my April Poem-a-Day poems are based on real life. As are my books, which take chapters in my own life and fictionalize characters who have painted my personal canvas with gorgeous, bittersweet, splendid colors. The good news about my novels is the phone call I had April 5th with the marketing director for a small press, Pagespring, who boosted my ego, gave me great advice and promised great things for my future, after I put in a few more drops of blood, sweats and tears.

I’ve lost some followers in the past few years and picked up a few, as well. I won’t troll for followers and realize Blogspot is not an easy site to leave comments on, but I do invite those who like poetry (or enjoy voyeurism) to read April. There's a poem every day. 

Thanks for reading…

Day 4 - Write a poem about Distance

Distance


The foothills are within sight. I can see the snow is beginning to melt.

You live there. Just outside the city, where foxes come into your yard and steal fish out of your pond and you don’t know whether to be amused or angry.

Your collection of cars keeps you busy and the auto shows are a priority for you. Having no children, these hulking machines are like your babies.

Sometimes in my dreams, I carry you on my shoulders.  Other times, you are down a long road, maybe alone, or with others, and I call your name but you can’t hear me. You’re too far away. 

I had to leave behind the flowers you gave me three years ago because there was just too much to pack. Now I wish I had them. It’s sad to have nothing of you.

I worry about you when I die. It will be over then and you won’t have done the things you need to do. I will be gone and I can’t save you. 

I often think about the time we thought you were lost at sea and the terror that invaded my nights for weeks to come. I got over it finally.

This last Easter Sunday, you couldn’t come because you had other plans. It was too bad; you could have helped us remember details of the time you chased the robber all over the back yards of the neighborhood and the cops eventually caught him. You would have laughed with us. We laughed until there were tears in our eyes. 

........

Thanks for reading...

An Appearing Poem

November 1 ~ An Appearing Poem

the moon continues to appear
sometimes to my astonishment
and month turns into year
the moon, with her admonishment
seems to croon
don't give up too soon
we await your accomplishment