I enter into today with the celebration of loss and love —

I cherish your bedside as we said good bye and

All I could do is cry

It has been five years and your sweet desperation breathed between two places

Your eyes closed as some said the “Our Father” and others’  dark faces

Posturing, some told lies and some truths; you listened.

Reaching into the depths of the last moments, you closed your eyes

For the last time you pulled from a place we all know only once in time

You called out ” I love you.” The room quieted

copyrighted:  CMM  2016

The fields have turned golden

the wheat now bundles in rolls

the sweet rain of autumn

will soon take its tolls

while color begins to grace

the tree line with color

the golds and the russet

the browns and yellow

I listen out to the souls who

pass into the place of places

where no one returns

and awareness erases

oh the changes of time

spread before in  splatter

to explain the passing

we ignore what matters

that autumn just is, what we

try not to see, the passing

of time, the reminder of seasons

when the colors bleed

copyrighted:  CMM  2016

I watched a friend take her last breath today.

We prayed, ‘Hail Mary’ and the “Our Father’

Then she passed…

I miss her terribly.

Unfair, at least to my understanding now.

Unfair to me.

She was fried chicken,

Hometown laughter,

Short streets.

She was “riding around”,

Coca cola,

Music on the radio.

We talked of ‘new loves’,

With new hopes,

As we shared our dreams.

She was simpler times,

Long phone calls,

Sharing all…

She was late night rescue,

Stranded from dates

Gone bad.

She was laughter at oddity

Of pregnant bodies

And invisible feet…

She was death,

The painful recognition of

The ugliness of disease…

She was the beauty

Of the spirit, shinning past

All the let-downs of cancer…

She was a lifetime friend

You never ask for,

Only recognize a lifetime late…

As I sit by her bed,

Watching her breath,

And my tears are for me.

Copyrighted:   2016 CMM

Wet morning sand stick to my feet

while brown seaweed breaks into my path.

I travel to my beginnings toward the sea.

Watchful without pretention or notice

sounds of waves crashing and wind blushing

past me, as I step into the path.

On the shores morning and evening meet always.

Reflection of all time before me, and after me,

will continue long after my footprints are no longer

wet to my feet; deep into my path.

Copyrighted:  2016 CMM

I walk upon the canvas

the gray and green elephants 

walk around me. 

Always in dimensional lights

of bright and then dim

the gathering of familiar faces

was all that I could see. 

I look to see upstairs to find

and you were not there. 

I continued down the stairs 

the face of your adversary 

standing fatter and pompous.

A distant call was hung into space

I heard the gritty sound of ignorance,

I heard the sound of disgrace.

I never saw but knew.

I asked this fatter one where,

where were you? 

He turned to another and gave directions

I could no longer contain the pain,

as I beat upon his chest and

cried with years of disdain…  

Copyrighted:  CMM 2016

I tried to cry but the pain was there

I felt the hour of our shared despair

Sisters bleed as time turned gray

Mingled tears from another day

A mother gone so much not said

A wilted memory and sadness shed

A soft word in a written note

A longing shared our grasps  remote

Sisters bleed as time turned gray

Mingled tears for another day .

Copyrighted:  2016 CMM

The crystal clings. with toast of things, remembered from the year.

The wine pours red and we nod our head to loved ones, we hold dear.

A kiss held softly an embrace held tightly, all to say, ‘I love you.’

The moment of kindness of auld lang syne, with feelings of old and new.

Embrace the old man who now lifts his staff among the stars of time…

We pray to the mystery of luck and fortune let’s sing to auld lang syne.

                                                 The Gift

I find myself (as I do every Christmas)  thinking back to a

special lady who always made Christmas so loving. There was

one gift I always remember and treasure is the one from

Grandma.

She was old and retired. She was living on a very limited

income. Each Christmas she would set up a tree no taller than

2 feet. It was artificial and set on a little table covered with cotton

from old boxes replicating snow.

She would take the little money she had and buy each of her

grandchildren hose for the girls and socks for the boys. Even

today I remember her going to the little tree. Her hands had

become old with swollen joints and trembled just a little as

she picked up the little gift wrapped in thin paper from the year

before. There was always a thin ribbon, usually red tied to the

gift. Handing me the little gift, she would say, “It’s not much.” I

would always smile to her and say, “Grandma, you have no idea

how much I needed hose.” She would smile and sit next to the

little tree. Today that gift keeps giving back to me. It was love.