The Shadorma is a syllabic poem. It has six lines – (a sextet) with a syllable pattern: 3/5/3/3/7/5
My eyes closed
I slept beside you,
and waking today, you’re gone.
Someone stole my dreams.
Flight of the Challenger
“Clean your room already!”
she said for the thousandth time.
But six years said I deserved better
so I loaded my Radio Flyer with licorice and toys
and headed down the sidewalk.
The block was long but I was determined
to leave my chores behind.
Running away from everything
is a luxury that only children can afford
with a twenty-five cent allowance.
And I would have gotten all the way to Michigan
if only I had been allowed to cross the street.
It was a lazy summer day
with nothing to inspire a child
until Mom took me to the garden
and picked the hollyhocks.
With only her knowing fingers
she pinched off the opened flowers
and handed me the tiny buds
before going back inside.
I couldn’t see her vision
until flowers were flipped like skirts
and green removed from buds
left tiny eyes and upswept hair.
We filled a dish with water
and the flowers were transformed
into floating floral ladies
and imagination danced away.
A Harmony of One
There is no more our song
just pieces of love gone wrong.
Yet the broken glass of the disco ball
keeps on spinning its dancing light.
From ceiling to floor dappling shadows
transform my imperfections.
In time I’ll move from dark to light
wherever the music takes me.
But now all I want to do is dance
and learn the tune of my song.
Some days I kneel to the order of things
watering flowers and pulling weeds,
but deep furrows grow in my brow
and confusion chokes my life from me.
For if God is in the flowers
and the Devil’s in the weeds,
then where am I in the garden
when I can’t tell them apart?