April
1st is no joke to me as it is Autism Awareness or as I like to say
Autism Advocacy Month and National Poetry Month with it goes the National Month of Writing Poetry Challenge. Now, some people don’t take
either of those subjects seriously, but I take them both seriously as they are
both such a huge part of my life.
For this challenge, I
will be posting a quick poem I scribble in 10 minutes each day. It is always an
adventure as I did this for the past two years and am looking forward to this
third, however, be warned that life events have been rough of late and the
poetry may reflect that as it is always part of my grieving process. I’ve also
been sick this week, so I offer up these two opening poems as through a very
foggy brain, but here they are none the less.
The Brothers and Sisters “K”
“A”
begins a stream of letters
Falling
in line like eager soldiers
Marching
in the same pattern
From
beginning to end
Tumbling
faster grouped
Together
like tiny families
We
remember “A,B,C”
“Q,
R, S” and “T, U, V”
The
larger groups are of those
Mysterious
tribes with twins
And
triplets gathered round the fire
“L,M,N,O,P”
and “U,V,W,X,Y,Z”
But
what of “K” that stands alone?
There
a stop in the middle
On
the way to rattling off
Those
that belong together
“K”
is cut away between
“H,I,J”
and “L,M,N,O,P”
The
curious “K” is sequestered
To
be the pause in the long line
The
rock in the creek
where
the current passes round
swift
and sure goes on by
as
it stays steady on
standing
a part of the whole
Apart
Where
to start
Is
it fair
To
stand apart
Unaware
Of
the deep crease
And
sweet release
In
a life lived long and sure
Come
again
To
depend
On
those feelings deep
That
creep
Past
our hearts
To
find a way
To
stay
And
increase
The
silence
Once
one is gone?
What
I ask
What
is this thing
That
bares down hard
Like
sludge or lard
That
clogs the brain
Like
a pelting rain
Because
of the constant refrain
Of
“he and she are gone”?
Slipped
out for a bit
Is
where I sit
Grasping
at that cliff
I’ve
slipped down
To
that one vine
I
claim as mine
Wagging
my limbs to climb
To
the top would be kind
As
underneath me
I
have nothing see
But
earth and wind and sky
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