There's a song that I wrote
with some notes and it floats
in a boat made of strings and my fingers
they know what to do
for the keys feel the tune
and they sing that I'm lonely for you
quick stream, raft draft
writing like the Madhatter ones
it must be fun when done
willy-nilly scribbling down some mixture
some scripture, a crib game
of sense and nonsense blender thrown
blender mashed, blender owned,
grind it, grind it, grind it alll-
together, smooth as cream of wheat
soft moon beams white
a Lite-Brite, with copyright
or even a Star Shine song
song: the earth says “Hello!”
twinkle above, twinkle below
like an ld play, those days
I remember them!
Hair and bare skin and feet
those were the days
my friends, we played
loops and hula-hoops
sweet days on the cement bent over
our chalk drawn boxes
hop-scotch afternoons with small chains
jumping from square to square on that hill
the Green one, a street still
I saw it the other day and it looked smaller
everything was grammar school mini
star shine morning
I can sing: the earth says “Hello!”
Some days I feel like a ghost
hanging around after death
on the street, in a store
just walking around
floating by invisible
perhaps felt as a slight tingle or breeze?
perhaps caught out of the corner of an eye?
but not really there
not really solid anymore
it's a sad feeling
to be alive and still the same spirit
but, an older female is not noticed anymore
just like a ghost
feeling left behind, without form
merely because time has passed
as Time does!
it’s a dark lost night
I’m lost, and the sky is black
I jumped overboard with no plan
and here I am feeling left behind
alone, bobbing in the cold water
a small object wondering “What next?”
at these times, we’re supposed to grow
because we have to do it!
floating in the darkness
turning this way and that
looking ‘round to decipher the constellations
there are so many questions:
which way is up?
is the handle pointing North or South?
is it even the right time of year for that one?
how far can I swim?
I wonder, will I freeze to death before the sun comes up?!
there’s no time for doubt!
I need to imagine some land for myself
and begin to swim North right NOW
Ann Marie Scotto is a writer living in Florida.
Anne Marie Scotto