Conspirators

This is the saddest, true tale I ever told

Lovely lady Mary grown feeble and old

With goal to stay at home till expired

Knew what it took as a nurse now retired.

Many greats and grands of children six

Mary was happy when watching cowboy pix

Daughters two conspired together

To make their burden light as a feather

Did not want to listen to the moans

Did not want to care for the bones

One day they met and sent Mary packing

Consultation of family sorely lacking

Crossing the line from Rights to wrong

Sent her to a nursing home with a song.

They did not hear her screams during the route

Determined to accomplish, to get her out

Off Mary went, no specs, no clothes, no phone

Wondering why she was so alone

Daughters two who pretended solace

Planned their next steps of malice

Confiscated keys for them alone

To ensure she could never go home

Landlord told Mary could not communicate

In their thoughts pushing her to the Pearly Gate.

They stepped inside her treasured abode

Looted and plundered all she owned

Never asked Mary if they could

Never thinking if they should

Took the pictures off the wall

Turned the phone off so no one could call

All of the things Mary selected and kept

They laughed at, trashed, and neglectfully swept

Took all her clothes, tossed them out

Thinking these acts gave them some clout

Determined to accomplish, did it with a song

Crossing the line from Rights to wrong.

Mary’s home, it is now just a memory

Nailing to the cross her autonomy

Leaving her with no hope, just shame

I am sure they hoped I felt the same

Puzzled why they went to such theft

To leave their mother with nothing left.

 

 

 

 

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Draw the curtain

 

Blue jay

As I draw back the fabric

To open the curtain to the day,

As a blue jay lands on the feeder

I stand at the window

Cat at my hip.

We stare awhile–those inside at out

The jay feeds then turns and inspects a dropped seed

He shows us the mosaic of blues in his tail and back

Layers of feathers perfectly appointed

Each with a special function–a special beauty

Then off to the sky the jay flies.

And I was wondering,

Wondering why

I am always moving

So committed to task

Rare moments to gaze

Only seconds taken to pause.

No waiting for the jay to return,

I continue my day

Like a hummingbird.

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The Streetlights

Streetlights

For months the streets were dark, streetlights disconnected

Citizens were shadows, businesses uneventful

Difficult to see as one rides through the city.

Cathedral security  and vehicle high beams

the only light puncturing the dark.

The streetlights are back on now

The main thoroughfare is lit

The lamps flicker in the subdued dawn

Slowly fade  as the sun rises.

The streetlights are back on

Partners to cracked sidewalks

Arcs of safety spreads over the cement.

Once mysterious, gloomy, and foreboding

Bus stops are now cradles of waiting.

The streetlights are back on

Boarded windows and  barred doors still remain

Ancient litter and dust hug the curbs

crumbling decades of neglect deep rooted.

The streetlights are back on

Perhaps a voice of opportunity

The wake-up  call to restoration

A stake claim to fuel hope.

The streetlights are back on now

A song to me as well

As I take a final work day drive

Then retreat to a new job in the suburbs.

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Change

Change can caress your mood

Can undermine relationships

Can be underhanded

Can rattle in the pockets of your mind.

Expectations warn of failure,

Past failures warn of doom,

yet change presses on

Seeking new challenges

Promising new opportunities

Assists in meeting the mark

Crossing the finish line.

The anticipation of impending change rockets

Emotions off our steady course.

Remain focused on meeting the initial challenges

Of  embracing new encounters,

New work

new process

new goals.

Otherwise disaster knocks

Look behind and you will miss the new path.

Commitment to change

deserves a plan

the unknown can be rehearsed.

Our past experiences settles us

Secures a clear vision.

lessons learned can be a heavy burlap sack

or nudges us forward.

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Data Hunt

Data hunt

Each with a goal to reach

Personal achievement and recognition

Fuel the ambition.

Strong opinions match budgets

Small voices carry the load,

Data hunt via infinite variables

Populations boiled and pickled.

Until a story worth mentioning tumbles

Shining as a jeweler’s score

Scrutinized then rewarded more.

Research, an addiction for sure!

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Morning Haiku ~ Collection of 6

Morning Haiku

Mountains white float high

above the mist and discord

Horizon snow wall.

Messages compete

On rooftops along the drive

Pokes silence within.

Perfect straight green lines

Full commitment to design;

Mowing is complete.

She laundered her words

Comfort zone was not enough

Self sabotage was.

They stay avoiding

Perfect unknown challenges

Stepping carefully.

Moments to gather

Forging thoughts of calm and strength

Still peace is fleeting.

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SUBDUED MORNING

 Grey clouds hang over the morning

Creating a midnight blue canvas

Sounds of the awakening city hum

Buses idle, waiting to capture first guests

Tires clap on freeway pavement

Early birds sweeten the chorus

Towers aglow greet morning shift steps

Keyboards clatter finishing yesterday’s work

Coffee cups scrape against cubicle counters

Subdued lighting whispers good morning.

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