Some days I’m wishing
Distance can stretch forever.
This moment: peace, health, life.
Banana (Bread) 2020 NaPoWriMo #24
Bananas grace my counter,
Hanging on a time machine.
The first speckle rising as the
Green fades.
They remind of the persistence of time.
They remind me of the persistence of memory.
They remind me of urgency.
They remind of malleability.
The texture slipping from firm
To stringy;
The smell rising
Faintly over-sweet.
I’ve learned that monkeys know
To peel the banana from what we call
The bottom.
We’re not so smart.
I love the melt of a slightly overripe
Fleshy mash
On my tongue or
In my oatmeal.
Best of all,
Transformed by sugar, butter, flour,
I love bananas when they are
Banana bread.
QUARANTINE (2020 NaPoWriMo #23)
In these unprecedented times…
Q looks like the virus, a spike to cling
U is both you and me
A graphs the curve we want on the backside
R the folded-arm stance of survivors
A the undesired resurgence ahead
N the undesired resurgence ahead
T an intersection for change
I straight path to difference
N mask on its side
E stepping out in socially distanced unity
Together it spells pandemic
Give One’s Tongue to the Cat (2020 NaPoWriMo #22)
The French much have told me to give my tongue to the cat, this prompt was so hard.
But I have long teeth. No hair in my hand. I do things with all ten of my fingers.
I’ll cut the great in two before I start running circles in the semolina.
It’s all Greek (or French) to me anyway. Before I have one foot in the grave, or smell of fir, I’d better bow out of this race.
Maybe I have, after all, given my tongue to the cat.
