The Drive

A Thursday Zena Bethel Drive

Fields

of stubble

fresh turned earth

Fence trees

just woke

no brush

come as you are

Small dark birds

Undulating

Throbbing

swirling

switching

Clouds

Enormous

yet floating

sometimes 

leaking.

KGM 9-2018

Hey Neighbor!

Hey neighbor!
I have no idea
of the sights and
sounds we've offered
Over the years
decades
I apologize
for the loud
not fit for public
entertaining or profane
Events we produced
But
We're sad
there was
little reciprocation.

~KGM 9/2018

Once again
I read your words.
Lines of words.
I can't find myself
Within your lines.
But (if I squint)
I can begin to see
What I wished to be.

I never thought I'd be
on the outside looking in
again
Included you kept me
informed
formed
our brood was all about inclusion
but the glue loosens
more and more
the divide widens
i see you over the chasm
at least i think that's you
~KGM 3-2016

Colors of Dad

Palette is ready
Mixed and filled with my version
The colors of you dad.

Brush poised above the canvas

A recliner in the corner
And there you are
Newspaper open and a football game on
Waiting for mother to finish
tidying up

There she is
Sitting on the couch near you
Your hands a loving bridge

Impossible
To paint you on your own
Impossible.

Changing to a pencil
I want to get the details right

Another corner of the canvas
A truck and camper take shape
Campfire
Folding chairs
Friends
Laughter
So much laughter

And now the center of the canvas

You’re home from work
Mother’s in the kitchen
You embrace
The long embrace

~KGM 6/11/2015

Slowed by Trauma

when I was young
I was transparent
dodging what I could
submitting to the undodgeable

I predicted the family future
at the age of 5
but was afraid to grasp
my own salvation

aging finds me grasping
and regretting
regretting and grasping
learning who inhabits this body

I'm still an amateur
but don't underestimate
my ability to offend
or be offended
And
wondering when
I'll be fully grown

~kjm 2013

Compassion

Where is your compassion?

Do you only take it out of your pocket

To show to friends

To parade at parties

Or is it always on your sleeve


Not to be seen so much as to be felt

Slid across your cheek

To remind that you too have a vulnerable self


Who needs compassion?

Those cutting words you utter in private

Leave shadows across your face

A crick in your neck

A hitch in your step

And when you are aged

You will be asking,

Where is your compassion?

~KGM '14

Honeymoon Beach 1978

I saw our love
In action today
The waves against the rocks

Each watery contortion
So different -
But equally awesome

While unnoticeably
Making change after change
Upon the landscape

Which in time, we'll both agree
Will make something beautiful
More so

Lost Tether

I weep for you still.
That invisible indestructible
elastic
tether
that once strung our hearts together
is gone.
It's taken me months to realize
I'm like a balloon without a string
. . . or a girl without her mother.
No more sitting close to you on the loveseat
holding your hand.
Standing shoulder to shoulder
in the kitchen
cooking or cleaning up.
Your absence grips me
ambushes me
soaking my pillow with tears
I once feared ghosts
but now wait for them
Hope for them.
Hope for you.

KGM
7-12

Most Loved

I'll bet you don't even know
that you're the favorite

I've finally decided
that special honor
isn't due to
an open door

Maybe it's that
unwavering gaze
straight into your
audience's heart

Or as mother
described you
so soft, so warm
so huggable

I hate to admit
learning your status
hurt me
Why should it?

Because
I thought it was me