Myrtle

Every town has one
a crazy Myrtle who staggers
a little as she walks, and chatters
like the parakeets
that fly over in summer.

She'll mumble to herself,
stop you in the street
with a mad wave
and a shout or screech
guaranteed to sear your ear.

She wears long baggy socks, earrings
that dangle into another world,
red rouge on her cheeks
that doesn't go
with the purple striped cardi
tied around her waist.

She'll save a smile for you,
drag it up from somewhere
we'd forgotten existed, smile
and brighten your day
without thought.

Nelson Sunshine

Blue shot with cream, carries a dream
that today skipping ropes will come out
daisies will be chained to the sun,

that we will star in comedies
and cry at soppy movies.
Where the world revolves around me

and you, and the stars sparkle
especially bright for us.
Today we will smile
and be smiled at, today

we will lap the cream
and swim the blue
until we are marooned.

Dreams

Every one of us dreams, carries
a thought to a happy end. Even
the woman in heels, white satin bag
held to her face as she breathes
the glue through pain that strips
her legs of the ability to walk straight.
She might dream of sandy beaches
and sunshine where the waves
wipe away loss, where the sea breeze
blows in a new day of fresh
promises. She might long
for a lost lover, mourn his beauty
conjure him up through the fumes.
Dreams might be all she has, the
only other thing she can hold.

you

i walk on you when
i walk along the hall
unlit, it is as if you
are the blue in the carpet
as if the darkness in the hall
is your thoughts, dreams
having fled before sunrise.

The Elderly

We cradle them in our arms
as they cradled us, carry
them when their legs
no longer give them strength.

We feed them, their hands
returning to that delicate stage
where reaching does not mean
touch, where grasping
does not mean to hold,

where carrying
does not mean to clear a path
for footsteps.