Spring Squirrel

Good mornin' little guy

Streets are bustling

park is still quiet

yours to play in

run

flick your tail

wiggle your nose

up on haunches

looking

checking

just in case

but then

drop and sniff

run again

scamper part way up a tree

turn head down and

look

scurry down into the grass

stop go

run wait

dig for something planted

before winter

how can you remember where they are?

grasping with paw hands

transfer to mouth

teeth firmly gently hold a gem

once again you run

run

up the tree

far

to the branch

holding your nest

winter is gone

Uninhabited

Sign of the times

so beautiful a structure

stunning beauty

strong

nestled protected

between two

sometimes bustling buildings

Carefully modernized

without sacrifices

to an earlier time

For Sale

sign

like so many others

is it noticed at all?

Who could buy

this glorious building

and love it

as I do?

Down in the city

where night is

as busy as day

Dress the windows

in lovely drapes

with a center of sheers

Three floors to live in

One for meeting

teaching

buying and selling

Garden on the roof

giant pots and cauldrons

overflowing with

flowers

trees

breakfast lunch and dinner

basking in the sun

Envision this place

in early morning

when people hurry

down the street

briefcase and coffee in hand

Off to work!

Quickly now!

Think of winter

looking out from the

warmth upstairs

at shoppers in

coats hats gloves

shiny paper bags labeled

Banana Republic Ann Taylor Dillard's

Consider summer nights

Theatre down the street

Opera just a skip away

Music venues all around

Chatting over a late dinner

seated in the patio area

Have another glass of wine?

Who could buy

this glorious building

and love it

as I do?

Down in the city

where night is

as busy as day.

Working

Please accept my apologies as I go through the posts AGAIN, seeing what I can do to improve, update, renew and edit.  Most of these writings are my response to experiences and work at healing.  I have new posts to add, some I may want to remove. This blog is a labor of love as I work and begin writing again, something I was prevented from doing for many, many years.

Emma

No Luck at All

 (Picture found on Google Images)

At 17 we dated,

then we did not.

Why, when I had never loved like that?

We dated for a day at 24 or 25,

a day I did not want.

Sometimes I would get a rare visit

or call,

once a letter,

but I rebuffed again and again.

Then I married

a man from church

a man who was too attentive 
had sparkling eyes.

Ignoring what I knew in my heart and mind
until I needed something
help

I went to the counselor at church

in fear

I cannot remember what I told her.

She said she could not help

I needed someone with more education

more knowledge

a therapist,

now!

Puzzled, I put that suggestion away.

He would never allow that.

More years drag me along

I was frantic

fear relentless

panic all around.

I found the therapist

and went.

She talked with me

the children

and interviewed him.

Puzzling because it was

not the kind of thing he would do

in his eyes there was 
never anything wrong

with him.

Always someone else's fault

at work

at church

the kids

but most often mine.

She talked with him for an hour

a full hour

then spoke with me the next week.

He was a sick man she said,

one who would never be well.

Diagnosis sociopath.

There was no hope for him

and frighteningly,

for me.

We could divorce

but I would never be free

she said

unless he found someone else

to victimize

or died.

What kind of luck was this?

I refused the only man I'd loved

married a man I thought was ok
because I met him at church

now trapped

till death do us part.

Trying planning

to get away

but never could work it out.

He watched so thoroughly

it was creepy and

I knew leaving was not safe

The man I loved at 17 found me.

Funny,

I had been searching for him, too,

finally admitting to myself

the love had never died

ever

He was married.

Another blow to the head and heart.

Luck? There is no such thing.

Death finally came

finding that man I'd married

lived under

been so afraid of

for more than 20 years

seated on the couch,

an empty shell.

I could not stop staring at the

gray skin

unseeing eyes

fearing he would sit up

and say

it was all a joke.

I stared through the police and paramedics

questions

wanting medicine bottles

calling the morgue for me.

They were so kind

but did not understand.

Thinking I was in shock

they kept suggesting I go out of the room

until they were finished.

I went into the living room

where the kids were wondering what happens next

all of us finding it hard to believe

it was over.

Did my luck finally change?

No, I decided.

Luck is a myth.

My mistakes and decisions

inability to act on my own behalf,

a remnant of controlled childhood,

were the things responsible for the way

my life was.

No luck, nothing lucky.

It just was what it was.

Now, I was equipped by life

to make strong decisions.

Still fearful,

anxious,

yes, terribly afraid,

learning to be free of his grip.

I am going forward

slowly.

Something Under My Pillows

My bed, new, free of past pain

Cherry posts,

simple solid smooth

Black iron at head and foot

just enough of the feminine

yet simple strong

It is meant to frame art

creations in fabric and yarns

Today it is clothed in lilac sheets

lilac and cream on pillows

cream colored oh so soft blanket

Topped with a bit of art

crocheted in one huge square

colors from dark to heathers

a field of purples and lilacs

pinks and yellows hidden here and there

designed only as I worked

beginning to end.

(Sshhh! There is something

under my pillows of lilac and cream

there I save my dreams

and take them out sometimes

to look at them again

and remember how they feel.

Black and White

He is not what he seems.

Friendly,

sparkling eyes

that seem to smile and radiate

"It's great to see you."

No, that is not who he is

at all

not for a moment.

Honeymoon first morning

"You don't need your friends and family any more.

You have me now."

Six month anniversary

he awoke from a dream of

unfaithfulness

and punished me for it.

We walked in for our newborn son's

3 day checkup

A nurse's aide looked at my belly

rather than the newborn in my arms and asked

"When are you due?

Anger boiled over

furious

with me for not being 107 pounds again

by the third day after delivering our child.

He came to me one night

looking puzzled

and said

"Your daughter is attracted to me."

I misunderstood.

She was 3 years old.

I explained a daughter craving

her father's love,

needing to know her value in his eyes.

That was not what he was saying.

Not really.

Had he been able to tell the truth

had he known what truth really was

he would not have dared to say

"I am sexually attracted to your baby girl."

Over the years he became more himself,

unable to hide from the family he held captive.

He watched us, criticized us, accused us

Yet in the evening

before bed

we all gathered in the living room

for Bible reading.

Here he continued to try to keep the mask up

saying to us in his commentaries

he was the godly one,

we needed his help and guidance

to keep us from hell.

In the car one day,

just the two of us on the way to the mall

he rained down curses on me,

curses he claimed came from God.

I was too afraid to cry.

His mind held two ways of living.

The lover of God

head of the family

friend to coworkers and church goers,

the dependable one

who could be trusted

called upon in times of trouble

Intelligent compassionate

but this was not him.

We knew the man who hated

mistrusted

twisted everyone's actions,

words

to show he was not the evil one

hated people of color or culture that varied from

what he knew was RIGHT.

We feared his anger

his braiding our words together

to get his own interpretation

because

he could see things we could not

of course.

We too then became among those who lived two lives

in an attempt to spare us punishment

for wrongs he imagined.

Mommy and happy children

while he was away at work

fooling others

until 4:00 came and our panic set in.

He would be home soon.

Clean up the toys and games

wash the dishes sweep the floor

to hide any love and happiness.

Fear begat anxiety

but the tension he came home to

comforted him.

We had the correct amount of respect

he felt he deserved.

The words of the therapist echoed in my head

and confirmed the hopelessness of our situation.

How to be rid of him?

There were only two ways.

He could find another woman with children

or he could die.

This was life with a sociopath.

Greens

I marvel at the color here.

Greens from pale to strong and dark

make this place peaceful for me.

Staghorn ferns with sturdy dark leaves

hang in baskets.

Pathos with creamy light green

almost white

swimming in a lake of cool greens.

A carpet of English ivy with its

dark green leaves

still has variations

newborn leaves with a yellow-green tinge

youngsters now shiny green

oldsters who dress in the darkest green-black robes.

I see what others don't.

This green place is a symphony of color and bearer of peace.