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Farewell

Crystal  Citadel

A Reverent  End

short autobio

Links:

Junction

The Millenium Dawn Anthology
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

Farewell
 

It is morning 
when I find the body 
pale and lifeless
floating belly-up 
bloated death 
distended eyes 
unseeing 
water sloshing 
in the gaping mouth. 

My throat tightens 
my stomach churns 
I may faint 
no, no
I must take charge 
steel myself 
for the ordeal 
for what must be done 
death has claimed another.

splash
     flush
          goodbye
              little  fish 
 

next   /   to top   /   to Moongate



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 


 
 

Crystal  Citadel
 

I found the faded photograph
Buried 'neath years of memories 
In a suitcase made of dust. 
Who was this young mother 
Clutching her sleeping babe?

Skin of ivory, innocent eyes
Delicate mouth smiling on her child 
Dark braids circled her head. 
Fragile as glass she seemed
Clinging to the edge of a shelf. 

Who were you? I ask 
Frail and gentle woman 
Lady of leisure perhaps? 
Who kept and served you, 
Tended to your needs? 

Turned over, writing appears 
Mystery in Hebrew script
"Grandmother, who's this?" 
Her name was Rachel 
My Grandfather's sister. 

Her story echoes still 
In our family corridors 
She buried many an infant
And raised seven more 
Thanking Heaven for them all. 

She secreted her children 
From soldiers in the street, 
Shipped them to their freedom 
Saw her husband wither away 
And survived a barbed-wire world. 

Eyes glowing with courage 
Mouth set firm and strong 
You were not a top-shelf  figurine. 
I misinterpreted the cover 
And neglected to read the story.
 

next   /   to top   /   to Moongate
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 

A Reverent  End
 

How is a city revived 
When it is only a carcass, 
Boarded-up store windows 
Staring like dead animal eyes? 

Dredged up like dinosaurs 
We use salvageable remains, 
Erect new steel skeletons
Cover them with new skins 

     in hopes they will come to  life
    and breathe on their  own. 

Would it not be better 
To respect the deceased,
Honor them for service rendered, 
Bury them in silence 
And quietly move on? 

next   /   to top   /   to Moongate
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


 


Born in San Antonio, Texas, I was raised in L.A.'s San Fernando Valley, where I took root. I got my love of wordplay from my mother. Other interests include needlework of all kinds, crocheting for family  and charity, scrapbooking, reading, and genealogy. I am married, have two married children and one  grandchild. 

I started writing poetry during the 1970's while taking  a writing class at L.A. Valley College. Phrases and images tortured me for  several weeks, and my instructor suggested I write them down. That gave me a  measure of peace - for a while. My writing has been an on-again-off-again affair since then, calling to me when my emotions are stirred. In 2001, after picking  up the pen again in earnest, I joined a local Writer’s Workshop and the  California Writer’s Club. The encouragement offered by other writers and family  members gave me the courage to continue writing and to share my work with  others. 
 

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