life after your life

it's like this. it's not standing still. it's not folding hands. it's not allowing one quiet moment because if you did, if you allowed that, then what? it's beavers and bees. it's lava and ice. it's hurtling full speed towards moving objects and throwing yourself off planets. it's shifting from foot to foot. always running. one way or another.

just another wednesday

courage.
just some courage.
and if he taught me anything...
deep breath.
look.

the blanket that held his warmth.
the sleeper that holds his blood.
the bracelet that bears his name.

i can't breath.
courage.

the hat that covered his head.
the box that holds his ashes.

what's left of my son is dust.
in the box.
little bones.
tiny red hairs.
is this courage?
are great, gulping, breaths courage?
is it courage that hides the box away?
under my nightgowns?
below the sweaters?

i wish i was capable of so much more.

saturday

some days are harder than others.

golly, i really miss that cd.

there once was a fella named alex
who borrowed my gorillaz cd.
"alex," i said "just buy it."
"why, when i can get it for free?"