Sorry, Emily
Because I could not stop for death, he kindly passed me by – he, dark winged and disappointed. Me, content with my busy pen – writing away mortality.
Katherine’s Coffeehouse
Following
That time in the Mexican mountains, I said I was being followed. It wasn’t so much that you listened (though I loved you for capturing that pic, casually on the hiking trail, then later in the cantina – your face when you saw, yes, it was the same blond woman tagging along like a bad
Every Atom
That day you hummed the song of myself – I assume you assumed I’d fallen for it. I did. Have you felt so proud since, every atom belonging to me belonging to you? Well? Have you? Apologies to Walt Whitman
Tin
Lighting the lavender votive, I remember you and me, vitamins, mood stabilizers, coffee. And that little tin of scones, blue with sketches of Victorian women, hoop-dressed, press-on rhinestones. How much fun we had sticking those gems on. The Queen would be horrified, we said. Is she?
Pawn
You brought it to the pawn shop, the only silver I’d ever owned. Perhaps I’ll buy it back. Save it from strangers. Give it to you for Christmas. Oh, your eyes.
Recall
Recall waves bye like a tired baby, confusion puckering, the right words already asleep, unintelligible taking over. No one seems to know why. Maybe it’s the surgeries. Maybe it’s the age. Maybe it’s the strict stride of burdensome time, the hobble of gray matter trying to keep up, child reverting to crawling, attempting to cruise,
Spring Thaw
Remember when the sun offered us just enough to turn snow in the road to puddles? Mom said the wanted words: Yes, you can ride your bike now. You pedaled through salt and sand and every mini-pond for miles, soaking the bottom of your corduroys. They stuck to your ankles, dripped down your socks, into
Movie
In the cinema, pudgy recliner holding me in its vinyl hand, your own hand holding mine – I want to laugh at the preview, but only the right side of my mouth moves, upper lip meeting lower cheek, like some lopsided, one-sided kiss. We’re too old to make out in theaters, too young to think
Monday Morning Revival
Hope leaked out of the lunch bin, into my laptop bag, messing up the expected. What is this new Monday marked on my calendar with a sticky note? Read closely: Renewal has arrived. #KatherinesCoffeehouse
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Zoo Animals
Always up a hill smell of heaviness and hay the elephant house -Katherine Gotthardt #KatherinesCoffeehouse
