Bunce Road


I remember the dirt drive laden in gravel just

off the main asphalt country road.

named after generations of people,

who came before me;

We called family.

I wonder how many trips were

taken in and out,

and for what reasons

as we came and went to this place;

we called home.

Generations of successors grounded

into the beginnings of a southern family.

Two world wars and aromas in the kitchen

with Sunday afternoon get-togethers;

everybody knew everybody

An echo of memories sounds into the tomorrows,

old becomes new and the new often forgetting

the once was, just off the gravel road

leading back to the circled drive grounded into a name;

for generations now forgotten.

©   CMM  2008

Knell Bell


Ash, fallen losing its form,

drifting to places—

Places once given to life

now void in the body.

Blemished leavings of

perfect love and life—

Spent time, celebrations

now void in the mind.

Consciousness

to awareness made up

of dreams and hopes,

now void in the soul.

The ticking of the clock,

the clanging echoing,

noises made in the senses,

now void in the hearing.

Spoken words of promise

of heart felt memories

devoted love forever—

now void in heart.

We have heard many

warnings, sounding often

in the distance, never noticed—

until we hear the ringing.

Knell bell

final sounding—

Echo without vibrations,

muted sounds, never heard; but felt.

copyrighted: CMM 2002

Summer’s Ending


summer’s ending
the leaves are drying
the wind is softer,
the heat subsiding
it is as if
they all agree
that summer’s ending
drop down your leaves
moisture is lost
the darkness takes hold
the larger birds balk
the mosquitos are bold
summer’s ending
I feel Autumn say
the days will be shorter
as limbs now sway
to welcome the Fall
stilled by the heat
it won’t be long
it is Autumn’s sweep.
Copyrighted:  2017  CMM

I Run


I talk myself into my run

one foot in front of the other

climbing upwards challenged

laboring a little

just enough to remind me

my humanness

I pass birds calling

aged trees standing still

among the wood line

while wild brown-eyed susans

wink in sway with a soft wind

a wind I need to release me

I do not stop until the trail ends

copyrighted:   2017 CMM 

Evening Tomb


Smoked-filled room, choke the senses,

tenant’s visits heightens defenses.

Buried emotions, snuffed stale air,

vacant expressions with sunken stares.

All who come to the evening tomb,

cloud their lives within the room.

Clinking of glasses the flame of the lighter,

two strangers meet, become one-niters.

Reaching from trust now long failed,

hopes wrapped up now kept and jailed.

Speaking present, the buried past,

masking in drinks, in hopes it will last.

Long enough to help forget,

strangers, soon lovers, talk and sit.

She now with her tinted hair light,

sits as he listens throughout the night.

Each one look for their night of need,

knowing dawn their guilt will breed.

A different loss, a hollow space,

another night to seek; erase.

©  CMM   2000

As If It Was Not Enough


As if it was not enough

The confusion in streets

Bullying on lines

As children hide

In homes of fear

Economic strains of

Success and failure

While countries

Close their borders

To human dignity

Guns firing while

Children falling

People dying

Without reason

Without notice

Color of skin

Makes up of worth

Marginalized women

Old people disregarded

Then, then

There was Harvey

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM