in a sleep deeply

priceless, precious

moments of 

a deep breath and

a long snore

little paws paddling 

overlook(ed)

my deafness is loud

internal voice struggling

to be heard over the roar

a low rumble of wind in caves

the hammering started at 8 am and my headache began just after

strange things make me happy 

things that are strange make me happy 

happy things make for strange

strange things make for happy 

happy in the strange

with my pup a snuggl-ing

the damage is done

leotards and tights never fit right 

ankles too weak for point

so I sat in the hall reading, watching Mother dance 

piano, cello, flute, guitar were all fine

but non-prodigals require practice 

Mother preferred quiet

I would have gotten better in time:

but at figure eights and dance on skates

speed and hockey, I excelled

Mother didn’t want to take the time

to take me

I’m 55, Mother’s been gone nine years

and I still search for things that fit

little 15

we had years together, decades of a misspent youth 

eventually we told stories, as families do

of how and what we recalled;

but there’s only me to remember these days 

so how can I remember so wrong? 

 

in my room reading

I cut my teeth on large tomes and small, thin novellas

frail pages turned an off sepia of gray-brown, fragile 

well before they ever got to me

books my dad kept, drug from place to place

books I would drag through the years as well until I parted with them all

Herbert’s spice, Asimov’s robots, Cherryh’s space station, Lee’s mockingbird, Sidney’s little Peppers;

I carried home as many as my long, thin arms could carry

as many as Mother would allow, disallow when her whim struck or the winds changed 

Katie, Flowers in the Attic, The Cider House Rules

all read before my thirteenth birthday, significant 

a day like any other, a day forgotten by all

a day scorched when I walked home alone, before the bell, in clouds of thought, bloody 

but I was never questioned on the content or titles, never censored

too many too much above my years’ comprehension

things that made the world outside seem wrong, seem strange, seem other

things that formed me made me kept me

alone in my room reading