I love you.
Ducks sailed along the pond as sunlight weaved moss-laced trees
To find us standing before family and friends but, most importantly,
Before God. We vowed to love each other as Christ so loves the Church.
Mistrust behind us, we emerged pure and unscathed.
Reminiscent of that first kiss but stronger, more assured.
On this day and forever more,
I love you.
We envisioned it together.
Along a jubilant parade route, within the pulse of the Crescent City,
We would raise our beautiful children. Just you, me, and the babies.
Anna, the first child, who lived and died in the womb.
The lucky one, Charles, wailed – announcing his arrival to the world.
We rejoiced. Rejoiced all three months of his life.
The others bear no names. Repeated loss. Our spirits could not sustain.
Even in those darkest days, through my tearful silence, I maintained:
I love you.
'Cancer,' they said. I prayed.
“Why me?” you cried. Nevertheless I tried,
For it was as much your life as mine.
I caressed your cold hands and lay next to your frail body.
In your concave eyes, I saw the youthful boy and my mature groom.
The man that I loved, my love. So I prayed.
You recovered. My womb breathed life. This time
My husband and my baby survived. Surely,
I love you.
Kneeling upon the cold earth, I still feel you.
Do you see our Anthony, our beloved boy?
Tall like you, he is his father’s son.
We visit your grave not to grieve but to celebrate.
Life had not always been kind but blessed we were.
Separated only by space and time, I cherish every moment of our lives.
My dear husband, my friend, my lover, my life, please know
I love you.
Despair
I live because I am a coward,
afraid of the alternative.
For what does it matter anyway?
With or without me, the sun
rises and sets. So I live.
Choosing happiness
except when the weight of emptiness
is too great.
Given to tears and admitting
my reality is a mirage.
Death took life moons ago
and left me behind.
So life continues. I merely exist
in this world. Living yet not living.
Praying
for the Angel’s call.
Eleventh Hour Prayer
Familiar.
I've been here before.
Encased by light and sound,
I am alone and
Desperate.
I cry because it is part of the routine --
The all too familiar
Routine.
This time, however, I fear that
I may cut deeper.
Apply enough pressure to the blade
To relieve my anguish,
Free myself of this sorrowful existence.
They say,
'It is always darkest before the dawn.'
Ha! How dishonest!
What the hell do
Light never shines my way.
I've tried to appease the gods to no avail.
Worshipping the money and the men of this world
For a fix.
Sinking to inconceivable depths
To fulfill men's carnivorous lust,
To feed the lure and the call
Of Drugs.
Never stone enough to remove
The putrid taste from my mouth
