Squaring off for round three,
dog vs. snapping turtle,
on the hill overlooking the marsh
where the turtles deposit their eggs
like grumpy old businessmen still paying into
social security in their late-fifties,
background of reeds and water lilies
coating the surface of the pond but utterly,
transforming it, the way a few handfuls
of rose petals might reinvent bathwater;
so situated, the dog edges forward
off the path, into the tall grass,
while the small gathered audience
places their bets — is the snapper, all shell,
even alive? is there really a turtle
under there? — and leaps back
to the limits imposed by the leash,
frightened by the mysterious indifference
with which its advance was met,
and whimpers to its owner,
and lays low, and waits,
with a dog’s brief patience,
for the thumb-sized head
to poke out of that massive shell,
like a homeowner verifying
the local weather reports.

A wall
that is made
of hardened cement
plastic chemicals
and your fear of being different
that protects/incarcerates
a gargantuan
selfish cruel cell

A wall
made to correct and to serve
those who fambles
and veers off the straight road

A wall
built with inspiration and hope
to try organize and make perfect
an imperfect organism

A wall
that stinkss of
anger
fear
sorrow and pride

A wall
made by the same
pathetic souls that it jails
dirt-poor souls
only having enough
courage to make
but not to break

A wall
that can only be conquered
with a tinge of enlightenment
in the minds of those
who subscribe

to burn the band wagon
with your own choice
of a deep-kicking
quick fixing
bottle of vodka

is to be free
from an invisible string

I push out from shore into blackness
The reeds scrap the sides
Sounding too coarse and loud against the stillness of the evening
A glimpse of dainty white lilies stream past
I glide along like a single raindrop rolling down a windshield
I leave no wake nor make a sound
The paddle is out
The gentle chop …swoosh….chop …swoosh
Lulls me like a heartbeat to a newborn
My eyes drift upward…scanning the heavens
The stars seem somehow closer
Space seems such an inapt word for what lies above
There seems no space left where the stars cluster into a glowing cloud
Is that a shooting star…a satellite?
No sense of time or direction
I am alone…enveloped in midnight
The great unknown above me
The mysteries of the lake beneath
Small cannot describe how I feel
Exposed , vulnerable
But somehow safe, calm, serene
I stash the paddle
Reach for my bottle of Fireball
Slowly sipping
I catch the sounds of laughter from a distant campfire
An animal bounding through the bush sounds dangerously large
Who needs the day?
Who needs the sun?
This here
This now
These are the times that free your mind

Fat free
full of beauty
she sits in her perfect style
unwanting of me
a smell of deception
the taste of bitter urges
the giving of nothing
with empty eyes but judging
I still stand

A man, almost seven feet tall
streight as a beard
on the otherside of the wall
eye’s filled with dissaproval
unwilling to let go
full fo brutality and judgmental passes
as people walk in
i’ve cried a thousand hurricans
I still stand

I take a leap in the dark
no way of finding my way out
my heart beats out of my chest
I hear whispers around me, about me
I have no where else to go
I have a chain holding me down
afraid to let go
wont let go
I still stand

You think I wont make it
You believe I will fail
I will let you down
everything hitds me walking through that door
sitting in this chair of unrealistic bondages
I close my eyes
I’m no longer here
I’m in peace
I still stand

I just wanted to say that I really loved your poem! I love the honesty and the way you capture the feeling of motherhood along with the beach. I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for writing

Katie.