At the Mercy of Whim

From high above and looking down
With dispassionate curiosity
I kick the hill
Surveying the damage
on haunches rocking
I wonder at their efforts
Seemingly without organization
Yet in the end
If I wait long enough
All will have been made right

If they could voice their indignation
If they had hands to clench
Would fists be raised?
And shaking said fists
In demonstration and defiance
Are they then resolved?
Determined not to be deterred?
Pondering these questions
I rise
And kick the hill again


ELAshley
071105.073027.6

Driving On

It floated in the water, her body
We drove over the bridge to holiday
Over the spot where she lay
Immersed and discarded
Another bit of flotsam
Carried on the tides…
It swelled and drained of color, her body
We laughed and counted car tags
While she lay cold, forgotten
~Not even worried about
In some small corner of the world…
She floated; eyes glassed dead and staring
While we took photos
~New England leaves dying beautifully
Giving color to a world
Growing cold ~ her body;
Hair spread like a fan
Mouse brown and sodden, her mouth open
Surprise written on her face…
And grandmother’s surprise
Arms spread wide to receive our little ones
Her hugs smelling of love and pumpkin
But where is Susie?
Days late and not a call
So very like Susie ~ so inconsiderate…
But mother,
She will call if she needs help
Doesn’t she always?

Her body floated
Not so much as worried over
Evil spoken of...

     “So inconsiderate…”

We were so close
We could have looked out our window
We could have seen her floating there
Her body ~ discarded, forgotten
…but we drove on



ELAshley
24 February 2002
For little sister