Storm
(In 7 Haiku)

My thin, white tee shirt
Clinging like a second skin---
So hot and humid.

Thick clouds, dark and black
Smothering like a blanket---
Hushed, watchful stillness.

Heavy gusts of wind---
Jagged, stabbing lightning forks---
First raindrops falling.

Lightning-splintered clouds
Unleash their pent-up fury---
Downpour from the sky.

Angry clinking sounds
Upon my roof and sidewalk---
Acorns mixed with hail.

Sounds like a freight train
Outside my bedroom window-… Continue

He does not see
How pretty I am
Fresh from the shower,
My hair piled atop my head
Damp tendrils trailing down my neck.
He does not see
My body
Pink and newborn
From the brisk massage
With thick terrycloth
Drinking in the
Excess moisture.
He does not see
Me standing
At the mirror
Admiring my curves
Selecting sweet-smelling balms
To caress each slope
And slide
Along familiar trails.
He does not see
Me shaking loose my hair
From its elastic prison
And barefoot
Strolling to select
Delicate under thi… Continue

I was startled when I realized
I didn’t think about him today.
I only noticed because
His name
No longer mine
Was on an envelope in the junk mail.
I was hungry when I realized
The food I was preparing
In my smallest skillet
Was my favorite
Not his
And it didn’t have to linger in the oven.
I was drowsy when I realized
I could lie on all the pillows
Or push them off the bed
To make me
And my doggie
Comfy cozy in our nest to fall asleep.

Just when I think
All my tears
Are dried
I have no more to give
One escapes
And then another
And another.
Following the leader
Down the slope
And racing into valleys.
The deluge continues
Until my face is slick
And shiny.
Tears drip from my chin
Or if I’m lying down
They run into my ears
Tickling
But not in a funny way.
The single tissue I pulled
Now a sodden ball.
I could use the whole box
Transforming each soft square
Into a salty lump.
My throat aches from trying to hold it in
And I wonder
Ho… Continue

He was dark as I was pale. His eyes blue to my brown. He loved to laugh as much as I did and he was a great kisser. Brad was a junior and I was a senior. Long and lanky, his dark shock of hair falling across his clear blue eyes, he made me catch my breath each time he turned that radiant smile on me and took my fair hand in his large tan one. We were both middle children from large families that owned the then popular station wagon. My family had a monster coral color Chevy with large fins and c… Continue