7th Floor Morning

lillian5 Comments

The sun is a recluse today
exhausted from yesterday’s mirth,
dawn abandoned.

Grey blankets a rain-skewed world
as headlights appear
and disappear
through green wet treetops.

Windows shut tight
shades raised, not flapping
coffee brews and I wait,
staring through drips.

Time-deprived street-lights
shine their night-time faces,
as umbrellas bob through a labyrinth
of puddles on cement.

Tired eyes close, barely awake
I sense the city on a rainy morn.
Coffee gurgles, cars slosh through streets
and a wet flag clangs metal grommets
on its cold steel pole.

Tap Into Life’s Lessons

lillian12 Comments


Magic shoes! Shiny black with big looped bows
slabs of silver metal screwed on soles.
Best gift ever, when I was oh so young.
And oh how I remember…..

NOISE.
PURE NOISE!!!
Swing a leg. Stomp, march, slap, clang!!
Body all feet. ALL SOUNDS.
EVEN WHen i tiptoed.
Add lessons, Tuesdays at ten.
To learn.
Teacher teaches,
directs, muzzles.
Shu-ffle, shu-ffle.
Shu- no, NO, NO!
SHHHH!!!
Like-this.
Con-trol the-swing,
shor-ter. NOT so big.
Shu-ffle, shu-ffle.
One-two, one-two.
Slow-down. Con-trol the-sound.
Com-press your-space.

And there I was, in the mirrored wall,
shrinking. Like putting reins on little feet.
Learning to be small
while growing big.
Learning to fit in.

Twenty-First Century Cattle Call

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I was an Avon lady, in my very early days.
A diehard fan of the Bard that summer,
I fancied myself a Stratford woman.
Today? Well today, here I am.

Lounging in the sun, thirsty and hot
my blue rays turn them green
as I grab a dr. pepper,
antidote to drowsiness.

Stride-rite? But I lean left,
and still seek neverland.
I’ll choose to fly by Wendy’s
every time.

Kate spade dares my counter clubs
and I grimace as victoria’s secret
busts out everywhere.
Target? Not on my back.

The grammatically incorrect hermes
competes with christian dior.
Amen I say to that,
eyes wide shut.

I feel your pain,
branding seared into our hides.

Cul de Sac Season

lillian2 Comments

She sits on a faded brocade chair
brown age spots and blue veins
eyes clouded by cataracts
lace curtain pulled back.
Her house is on a cul de sac,
last one on the end curve.

Yard swings, long quiet
moved wistfully in summer winds
now shrouded in new-fallen snow.
Nearby holiday displays
draw a slow parade of cars
like moths drawn to light.

Cold drive-by strangers
slip past the lone dark house.
Her solitary reading lamp
turned off at seven
A Christmas Carol splayed open
on the wood planked floor.

Cattails

lillian6 Comments

Tall brown spikes on green stalks.
Herd plants, unlike their namesake
stand together, day after day.

Under hot sun, wind and occasional hail
bake into velvet texture
slowly stretch until they burst.

Brown-flecked white fluff stands on end
like the cat, suddenly shocked
sensing threat nearby.

A thresher looms its blades
and they scatter in the wind
seeding their next generation.