Heartbeat of the Rain

 —Poetry by Nolcha Fox, Buffalo, WY
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Nolcha Fox

 

 

IN REVERSE

If I could, I would start
with white-haired
wisdom, creaky bones
that long for warmth
that fade to rosy
cheeks and ample
breasts, no need for
sweaters, shawls,
come-hither dimples
bringing men from
all around, it’s spring,
it’s time to have
some fun.

 

 

 

 

ESCAPE

Take me to that place
where I’m perpetually thin
and I wear designer clothes
and one dog didn’t poop
behind the designer dining
room table where the maid
didn’t find it for several days
and the other dog didn’t barf
on the designer chair last night.

But this is Escape Island.
I’ll have to wait to fire the maid
until she cleans up the poop
and the designer chair.
Then I have to fire the dogs.
All while I have a hangover
from a three-day party
on my yacht.

This doesn’t sound like
much of an escape.

Does it?

 

 

 

 

DANGEROUS CHALLENGES

Once a furniture goat,
our 17-year-old dog
falls and can’t
get up. With loose
knees, arthritic hips,
she collapses in a heap.
We give her wooden
boxes to get up
on chairs and bed.
We hear crashes.
We pick her up.
She tries again.

 

 

 

 

SMILING

Smiling is odd,
especially in church,
when the preacher
is yelling of hell
and how we’ll all
burn up from sin.
He must wonder
what trouble
I’m brewing as I
put my tithe
in the basket.
I grin and
walk out
in the sun.

 

 

 

 

BAD TRANCE

I have to find the guy
who put me under a bad trance.
I put the chicken thighs
in the oven and proudly set the timer
to 28 minutes.
When the timer beeped,
I opened the oven,
to find I hadn’t
turned it on.

 

 

 

 

NOTHING IS STRAIGHT

I don’t see straight
lines anywhere.
Everything is curved.
The earth is round.
So is the horizon.
My body is a mess
of curves upon
curves upon curves.
Even my hunger
travels in circles.
Do you want
to pull in for some
fast food?

 

 

 

 

NOT SO BAD

I see things others
cannot, satin threads
in doors, autos doubling
in the streets, lines that
disappear when driving,
lights that strobe.
Magical and medically
induced. Maybe not
so bad. I can’t drive,
but I can be a child
again in my golden years.

 

 

 

THE CROSSING

I kneel before I cross to the other side. From this moment where I am to the next moment where I don’t know where I’ll be. From the clouds to the rain. From no pain to migraine. From this breath to my last breath.

 

 

 

I COULDN’T SEE UNTIL NOW

The night hid behind fog, buildings, streetlights, and traffic lights. I’d never seen celestial bodies shine in the sky.

One evening during a power outage, my head hit a shelf in the dark. When I could see again, my eyes were full of stars.

 

 

 

YES OR NO

Will she, won’t she?
Back and forth,
she weighs her options.
Can he provide the life
she thinks she wants?
He’s a patient man, but even
patience has an end.
By the time she makes
her mind up, he’s moved on
to someone else.

 

 

 

 

AFTER TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS

You are my worry
when you walk
in your flip-flops
in the rain to go
to the market.
You are the lump
in my throat
when you drive
to the next town.
You are absence
when you’re
in your office.
I love you.

____________________

Today’s LittleNip:

WHAT I HEAR
—Nolcha Fox

The phone doesn’t ring.
The dogs don’t bark.
I open the door to the heartbeat of the rain.
Tranquility.

__________________

—Medusa, with thanks to Nolcha Fox for today’s fine poetry, and for finding us photos to go with it!

 

 

 

The Home of the Fox-Lady
—Public Domain Art Courtesy of Medusa

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…my eyes were full of stars...