Wednesday, December 26


A young woman
In the kitchen
With wifely obligations
Arms limber
Feet firm
Twenty-three and a half spice bottles before her
Do not let it detonate
Whispers the past advice of mother
She examines the beans
They seem fine
How tedious it is to wait!
The phone rings
She picks it up
How can't she?--it's the hubby
There goes dinner
Allover the kitchen

Written for 3WW

Saturday, December 15

Tragedy in Connecticut

How do we mourn a massacre? By tearing at our hair and clutching at our loved ones? How do we pay respect to the innocents? By decrying current policies and pointing and the demise of our society?
We shake our heads and furrow our brows, but tomorrow? What will we do tomorrow and the day after tomorrow and then, a week from tomorrow? Will there be a move to change our ways? The children will by then be buried. And as their lifeless bodies leave our peripheral, the angry thoughts, thoughts of confusion and anxiety, thoughts that could spark revolution- these thoughts will leave as well.

Guns will still be legal.
God will still be illegal.
And our grief will turn to more trivial matters- like burnt coffee or spilled milk.

Do not fool yourselves. It will take more than a moment of silence to change the tide. It will take more than pointing fingers and even more than tears. God help us all.