Once Was

Summer in the south

Eagle and Child Inkling

It is so easy to look back and think,

coffee on the stove, dishes in the sink.

Clothes lapping in the wind outside the door,

floors being swept with straw brooms stored.

Yelling at the children as they begin to play,

telling them ‘stay close’ throughout the day.

Lazy brown dog, sniffing for the shade,

underneath the porch, his bed he made.

Summer heat a rising and clouds begin to form,

nothing more cleansing than an afternoon storm.

Deep within the south, families all know the others,

where Sundays congregate, sisters and their brothers.

Not much left deep within summer’s south,

most of the families are scattered about.

But, if you drive down an old country road,

where there is only dirt, listening to the crickets and toads.

You might in the distance look down path to see,

a barefoot child, stick in hand, chewing on a weed.

©  …

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International Women’s Day

I entered my garden of Gethsemane,

with the shroud of my womb

choking closely on my shoulders.

Weeping across my soul the red stain

flows into the vine now twisting into my

human flesh of pain and sorrow.

Mother of Mothers, whose loneliness

and desperation sheds the crust of my body

calling out for the new bread.

New bread for the generation left

from a Mother’s tears,

at Mary’s feet; the world weeps.

copyright: CMM  2009


3:00 A. M. Whistle

3:00 a.m., the whistle blows hauntingly through a thick still night. 

I thought, how it is a reassuring sound from the past to the present,

Makes everything seem normal or at least safe as normal should feel.

The darkness allows you to pretend the sound is being made frimg_2958-2om anytime.

Time of the little brick house with wasp escaping through the stone fireplace.

Or, an infant crying to be fed and nurtured back to sleep.  

Or, the present time, the darkness allowed my thoughts to travel.

The sound allowed my mind to go on into the memories of any time before.

Sounding one last time, it disappears into nothingness and all is quiet.

Just the darkness. left from minutes past 3:00 a.m. 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM

Lost Valentine

Before the pain,

there was laughter 

sharing of wits

the morning after 

before the pain 

there were smiles

all night conversations

lingering for a while

before the pain

she felt safe to know

he was  there

they would grow 


before the pain

all was everything

no needs 

before the pain 

Copyrighted:  2017 CMM