When her diagnosis said that she was going to die,

The people said she took the easy way out,

Popping that cyanide pill she found on the sidewalk.

“What do you mean?” I asked,

And they said she should have tuffed it out,

To see what it’s really like to die.

“But she did die, 

Didn’t she?” I asked.

-jenn 

 A lonesome lady in red chiffon 

Carries one golf club on her shoulder

And hits one golf ball along the rough.

She’s smart enough to play before 

The sun comes up,

Before the clubhouse opens.

She misses out on the gossip this way,

And gets to play without any delays,

Or paying any greens fees.

She’s almost hidden beneath 

The very trees she walks along.

Almost.

Like an apparition, like a ghost,

In the misty, morning dew,

Wistfully whacking one golf ball around,

Finding a few that others have lost,

She discovers plenty of time for counting the cost

Of past mistakes, and future ones

She’s bound to find

As the day breaks.

-jenn

 They tell me when I’m dreaming 

I can be awake.

I can speak to my situation 

And have a say.

I think I can also dream when I’m awake. 

Maybe I can also have a beautiful word to say,

Today, in this strange situation I call “Life.”

-jenn

 If you saw the waves just now, going north,

You’d swear the creek had reversed its course,

But suddenly you see, it’s not a creek,

But a narrow lake, and it’s just the wind

Blowing from the south again.

And if you listened to the leaves

That rustle there, so restlessly,

You’d swear you could hear me,

Suggestively inviting you to stay.

But is it just the wind fooling around?

And will it ever blow this way again?

-jenn 

 This water runs cold.

It would have been good enough for me,

But not for you.

I run it through until it’s warm

To wash your face 

And dry your eye

From tears you cry 

From what he said.

I remember well the dread

I felt when he would open his mouth

To draw a breath to speak some horrid word.

All contempt, and jealousy 

Proceeded from his tongue and teeth,

Words of pathological cruelty 

That kept us in our places.

But you have me,

And like the moon,

I have many faces.

One to counter every snide remark,

Every sarcastic bark that bites so deep,

I’ll keep at bay for you,

If you’ll learn to heed my word 

More diligently 

Than you consider his.

And maybe by seeing what’s good enough for you,

I’ll learn to be true to myself, too,

And learn to heed the word within,

Instead of paying any mind

To any of the shit he tries to feed us.

-jenn

 I’ve called you from my phone that does not work, 

Or one of us has traveled beyond 

The service area.

So I say whatever I want

Into a dead receiver.

Now, silently, I’ll wait for your response.

The birds are singing.

-jenn

 The tulips and the irises, 

They beckon me.

Their ephemeral leaves,

The squawking birds

That herd the riverway,

Give in to the melodious songs

Of cardinals.

A rooster crows at daybreak.

The morning air 

Lays heavy and sweet 

Upon my hair,

And I’m not sure 

Where ephemeral leaves me.

Am I dreaming?

Or are we walking near the causeway,

Surrounded by concrete?

Or are you here,

Waking up

In bed with me?

We pause to eat these luscious plums

And drink the nectar of the drums.

My heart beats as we tumble 

Down steep Kailash,

Badum Badum Badum.

-jenn