I Do That Too

Because I can answer the questions, I do
Because I can solve the problems, I do

Because I can see my new ex-girlfriend’s mother wilting,
Her shoulders stooped as she begins a diabetic dive,
While her daughter packs boxes, asking which soup
Ladle she can take. “Take them all” I say as I
Prepare her mother a cheese plate with neatly sliced
Cheese and fanned out crackers. I do that too.

Her mother looks from the party plate to my eyes
Sweat on her upper lip from stress and low blood sugar
“You always do too much” she says as she marries a
Slice of cheddar to a Triscuit and takes a bite of relief.

Because I can calm their anxiety, I do
Because I can get it done faster, I do

Because I can hear his tension simmering through the phone
When his proceeds haven’t arrived from the sale that closed
Two days ago, I sit in the theater’s 5th row center seat, clutching
My phone and coordinating a solution. Before the curtain goes up
I text the lawyer and the manager with instructions and suggestions,
Constructing a plan before the lights go dim. I do that too.

Because I know all this, every summer morning I breathe
Crushed lavender buds held to my nose in my cupped hands.

Because I know all this, as often as I can (yes, often),
I escape the phone calls and demands for an hour or two,
While I stroll through gardens of tulips and poppies with
My camera in hand, inhaling beauty and streaming sunshine,
And exhaling worry wrapped in brown paper packages tied
Tight with twine, happily littering the garden’s perfect grounds.
Burdens I had accepted are scattered among the tulip petals.

I do that too.

Along the Way

The moon was enormous, yellow and nearly full
Hanging low as I drove pre-dawn to arrive on time
“Don’t be late” so I drove on and stared hard not
To forget that giant magnificent high sky glow

The entire field was bright yellow acre upon
Acre covered with sun-colored wall-to-wall
“Don’t be late” so I drove on and stared hard not
To forget that endless electrifying banana glow

Sorry to rush on tomorrow I’ll wake early and stand
Long to take in the nearer full hanging low moon
Sorry to rush on tomorrow I’ll retrace to those
Yellow fields to see up close the golden blanket

Tomorrow.

It Smelled Like Spring

It smelled like spring this morning
Exquisite evocative head-filling waves
Of fresh cut grass and buds hovering
On the brink of full blown blossoms

Crisp air laced with warm sunshine
Inhaling each blustery cool-warm gust
Filling lungs with the anticipation of
Sunny warmth only moments away

Puffy vanilla ice-cream cone fruit trees
Showering down welcome April snow
Rendering greening grass a white blanket
Magical fluffy carpet beneath grateful feet

Full Fluffiness

Patient wanderer wrapped wooly thick and warm
The day is coming when the weight will be lifted
Your extra burden will be eased in just a minute
The buzz will terrify but the outcome’s the coolest
That’s cool “amazing” as well as cool “nearly naked”
They’ll whisk the plunder away to weave wonderful
Warmth and style and blankets and sweaters and
Wonder as your full fluffiness is memorialized
Forever

Resilience of Daffodils

Please explain dear mother the havoc you have dropped
Eighty on Saturday Fifty on Sunday Snow on Tuesday
Me in heavy overcoat past April tax day feeling ninety
Sporting dull winter colors as we race toward summer

The resilience of daffodils still standing after typhoon
Torrents rain down drenching buckets from emptying
Clouds on fragile yellow petals still blinking eyes open
Admonishing ceaseless complaints by grumpy humans
With less flexibility than fleeting soggy yellow flowers

“Buck up chilly humans,” says the heartless mother
“If this is the worst thing you have to adjust to, you
Clearly have no idea how lucky you are today. Consider
A little delay and lagging warm temperatures a tiny
Sample of the pandemonium I have in my repertoire“
A lightening bolt and thunder clap exclamation point
Flashes bright and booms loud as she walks away