Micropoetry Monday: Random Acts

20190807_182139

She broke the Rule of 3
by having 2 kids,
looked both ways
before crossing a one-way street,
& never listened to her gut—
it didn’t like pizza—
& who could trust something
like that?
She showed her husband
that rule makers
only created
rule breakers;
taught her kids
to never trust drivers
in a world
where cell phones & cars
coexisted;
& told anyone who’d listen
that guts over 35 inches
didn’t know what
they were talking about.

Calendar took life one day at a time,
whereas Clock lived in the moment.
When they crossed paths
at a Timekeeper’s Conference,
they saw the value in their vocations,
for she was responsible for a person’s D.O.B.,
he, their T.O.D.

She saw the faces of angels in the clouds,
of family members in the wood grains of her cedar chest,
& secret messages meant for her in the books
that had been given her by friends—
all watching her & warning her,
so that she never felt alone or lived without certainty.
Some say she suffered from paranoia,
others,
from mere pareidolia,
but she would say that she lived in a world
that spoke to her personally,
surrounded by the divine & the dead & the little things others missed
because they didn’t know how to read between the lines.
In this world, she felt the peace that had eluded her as a child—
before she’d been touched by an angel,
before she’d found her birth parents in the cemetery,
& before books had opened her imagination to the possibility
that all things were possible.

Life in 10 Lines

10

After childhood comes adolescence,
along with feelings of uncertainty about who we are.
Adulthood follows—when we discover who we really are.
Then middle age creeps upon us—
when we begin to look back at who we were
and despise ourselves for it.
Old age sets in not too long after,
and we revert to childhood.
But for those who had no childhood,
there is no going back.