Suddenly ideas beamed towards her. She could see them streaming through the window. Smell. Cookie. Stairs. Lots. Sunshine. Porch. Chicacoos, chicka, chickadoos. Birds. Crumbs. Up. Chair.

She could.

Her mother was talking in the bathroom.

Go downstairs. She did that before. It was hard but she could do it.

No falling. To the kitchen. To the cookies. They were up with the red chair. She could climb. The big part against the sink, like John did. He gave her a cookie too.

She pushed off her blankets and rolled her legs off the bed. This was the hard part. Reach the floor, almost, and let go without falling, without Mom coming.

“Mrs. Gerakis! You know you shouldn’t get up alone. Robbie will be here at 8:30 to help you wash. After breakfast, maybe we’ll sit on the terrace. But no hiding bread in your pockets. Those pigeons are dirty.”

She slumped back on the pillow, legs dangling. Words. “No,” was all she heard. No cookie. No stairs. No chickadees. No John. Not ever again.


 Daily Prompt: Agile



fleeting thoughts scattered
swirl round to gather
at my feet with the leaves
dispelled like remnants
of withered dreams
the frozen trunk won’t feed
fall’s fading light
is far too bright
for the void it breeds


the first time I blushed
the second I blistered
the third left me scorched
as I turned to coal
burning long and ardent
leaving shapely ashes

though I may look
only discoloured
now the tiniest gesture
threatens to blow me away


Look at the ends
to which we’ve gone
to run from our end
so much duller
than our beginning
At the end of the earth we sit
with fork and knife
each on the right side
still waiting to be served
We play parlour games
we’ve always played
to pass the time
as though nothing has changed
I wonder if this is how
one lives without seasons
with no change for which
to wait or plan
and if that changes
what one dreams of
or how one plays out
their last hand

rites of passage

First I was grudgingly acknowledged
An irritated
What do you want?
Then I was measured for potential
A surreptitious
What can I do for you?
Soon I was artfully respected
An opportunistic
May I be of service?
Now I’m being dutifully tolerated  
A saccharine
How are you today?
Soon I will be dismissed
A succinct
Will that be all?


My ancestral vestiges
long burdensome removed
Organs whose function
was this body’s
sole undeniable purpose
are now vestiges in turn
This skin
clings and drapes
over the final work
Bones begin to protrude
proclaiming their rightful place
as the sole inheritors
of this existence
and the only thing that will remain


Come here, Love
We need to talk
My sight dimmed with years
is no longer dazzled
by your enchanting promises

We got on
well enough for a while
You spurred me to commit
to people and deeds
for someone so alone

But I’ve whetted my vision
on stone faced reality
And I now see you
for what you are
And what we have achieved

You used me
for your cause and purpose
Squeezed me
for all I could give
Yet the seeds
have sprung to life
and grow in spite
of our shortcomings

Now that you’re done with me
you’re settling into a construct
that needs more scaffolding
than I can build
with will and imagination alone
I’m tired of propping up
your faltering altar
and feeding the illusions
you thrive on
to keep me devoted
to a purpose
that has been served
Seems you’re tired too
of feeding my hunger
for more than you can give
with small insignificant
black and white choices
on every side
to bide the time
in a game that will unfold
with or without me

So let’s stop right here
and part as friends
Though we were never
more than king and pawn

getting there


Politics and the kids
are all we talk of now
(did we ever talk of anything else?)
You shake your graying head
Each time I’m not convinced
Our dreams behind us
shuddering as we mock
what’s left of our ideals
We sure do know better now
I meet your pragmatism
with just a hint
of reluctant resignation
I’m only just learning
to act my age

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