Small Stone 11/24

Whiteout

Pristine filaments entangling one another like lovers

Falling. They settle in delicate places,

As ashes do; dusting the tip of an eyelash,

A cluster of three on the edge of 

Aubergine lace at her collarbone,

Stuck to the balm on her lips...

All around her, down ebbs and flows

From a rupture in the comforter.

Small Stone 11/23

A broken edged window of sunlight exposes the ghost of ocean wave rolls, and then the smoke disappears into the shadows.

Small Stone 10/13

Dragonfly

I look for her, my newest resident

Of two days, whose alien body has been

Splayed across a waxy needled frond of the sago,

like a six-limbed Kali in repose, third eye open.

Small Stone 10/3

Driving through a lane of broken shadows cast by about-to-fall maple leaves, 

Sunbeams beat on the windshield like a strobe light. 

Small Stone 8/15

2:00 am

Solid darkness

Beside my bed, she whispers

"I'm afraid to go to kindergarten."

Small Stones 7/26

Dirt-smudge toe prints confetti the ladder to her bed;
artifacts of a barefoot summer.

Small Stone 7/25

Before they scattered in retreat...
Before I reached in, with damp cloth, for the kill...
Before I was close enough to see clearly...
Specks of coarsely ground pepper on a stray cheerio.

Small Stone 7/24

A crooked square of blinding light breaks the shadow on the stucco wall; with loose corners, a right angle leans a little to the left.

Small Stone 7/23

Settling into a cool night, plexiglass crackles like stiff joints.

Small Stone 7/22

Shifting perspective changes the answer to the question. Again.

Small Stone 7/21

The tink tink tink of metal tags makes a puppy's presence known.

Small Stone 7/20

Gathering old newspapers into a pile, her arms only large enough to hold a bundle of three, she asks if we should keep them for the fire place - for a day when it's really cold and there's a "tongue-twister" outside.

Small Stone 7/19

Double dutch ropes of rainbowed sunlight turn on the vinyl pool's floor.

Small Stone 7/18

The six-bladed shadow whirls opposite its counterpart; they dance yin-yang on my ceiling.

Small Stone 7/17

A slithered whisper is the gentle breeze that sneaks up on me, mimicking a lover's breath, sweeping across bared skin - neck, shoulders - tracing the lines of my collarbone like a prelude to a kiss.

Small Stone 3/1

Guitar blues,
And her made-for-rock voice
Echo in an empty room.

Small Stone 2/29

My frozen feet sting under the heat of the electric blanket.

Small Stone 2/28

The only unmelted snow sits on the windshields of parked cars.

SS 2/27

Feather-light snow flakes fall slower than the rain drops.

Small Stone 2/26

A crescent shaped cradle glows in the dark.

Small Stone 2/25

 Toothpaste leaves my lips tight and tingling.

Small Stone 2/24

Multiple layers in different stages of drying disintegrate under the hot water; clumps, goo, and latex skin shrink to rubbery strings which my fingernails scrape from the bristles.

Small Stone 2/23

My hands are crusted over in dried spackle. While still moist, the paste was light and fluffy like whipped cream, except that instead of oozing and dripping between my fingertips, it crumbled.       

Sall Stone 2/23

The ducks, from the pond they call a lake, are calling out tonight, and one is yowling like a cat in heat.

Small Stone 2/21

Leaving his black SUV parked on the dirt shoulder, a thirty-something, dressed California-casual in flip-flops and shades, leads a dog on a leash while picking wild sunflowers beside the desert highway.

Small Stone 2/20

THE SMELL OF FRESH PAINT

Sour milk and jewelry cleaner

The Mediterranean room on Magnolia that we could never afford to finish

Sharp like vinegar

The panic of preparing for a baby born almost a trimester too early

Two separate nurseries in a house that would never feel like home no matter how pretty it looked

The one

Stronger in the heat of summer

Becoming more pleasant with every memory attached

Alcohol

Backaches

A copper repousse above my bath tub

The last twelve of the past fourteen years

Company's coming

Home

Small Stone 2/19

A little old Asian lady was getting cozy on the couch, in front of the entertainment center. The younger man (her son?) helped her out, draped the red blanket over her lap, and once she was properly posed - snap, snap, snap - he began taking the planned photos of her... In the middle of Ikea.!?

Small Stone 2/18

The muscles around my cheekbones have been stretched taught in laughter for a few hours now, and the pain radiates from my face, into my neck and ears. It's a small and worthy price to pay.

Small Stone 2/17

On the surface of cooled coffee, cream has separated into an atlas of filmy continents.

Small Stone 2/16

Standing in the only pocket of sunlight in the courtyard, heat slithers down my chilled, bare neck and shoulders, thawing me from the outside in.

Small Stone 2/15

In the driveway, long after the ice pellet attack has subsided, I sit in the jeep, drying under the blast of the heater, soaking up the velvet sound of Justin Nozuka's voice promising "...if the love is right, you won't have to look up at the stars..."

Small Stone 2/14

AF-TER-SHOCKS !

Small Stone 2/13

A cold, dull knife is stabbing my brain.

A Second For Sunday - Small Stone 2/12 (#2)

I'm chasing words that run faster than me, and when I finally catch up, there are too many to count; so when you speak, and I don't respond, it's because I'm still catching my breath, barely clinging to the tail of a thought that already passed with the moment.

Small Stone 2/12

The moment was stolen,
it should've never been.

She should've been in her bed,
should've been asleep,
instead, she was in my arms,
charming me with kisses - 

kisses that should've never been.

The moment was stolen,
and all that much sweeter.

Small Stone 2/11

It's a pink and purple princess hell of velvet and tulle, with heart shaped red cookies, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut in the shapes of crowns, and all the little girls in their gowns are jumping in an inflatable castle.

Small Stone 2/10

It's springtime in February, and all chores are abandoned today, replaced with a bike ride and a drive-in movie.

Small Stone 2/9

She's four, and singing along with just as much broken-hearted conviction as Adele:
"Should I give up, or should I just keep chasing penguins?"

Small Stone 2/8

It's a luxury balm, not the cheap stuff, and you can tell by the silky consistency; it's more cream and less grease than the average. It has a sharp spearmint flavor  with floral notes like perfume, and it's as sweet as candy.

Small Stone 2/7

Dave Matthews

Crush

It only takes one note, that very first measure of music, and the song is in my veins, warm honey flowing; and when he sings "lovely lady, let me drink you please," I am consumed.

Small Stone 2/6

He thought he was going to play hard to get.

Amateur.

Small Stone 2/5

It's the first time in years I've driven back to this place; the streets have changed names and there's a new roundabout when you exit, but the rock is still there, the weedy desert mountain that always appears only steps away from their house.

Small Stone 2/4

Among the aisles in Walmart is an ocean of red and pink hearts; on plush animals and boxes of chocolates, on cheap jewelry and even cheaper perfume, on wrapping paper and greeting cards, on every sign and streamer, and on little chalky candies that advertise sentiments that are too cheesy to say out loud.

Small Stone 2/3

There is one guy among the group of college students who are discussing fundraising, and though I don't hear the entire question he's asking the ladies, I catch "Would you be offended...  Justin Beiber throwing... at you?"  with an accent on 'Justin Beiber' as though he's the variable that changes everything in this equation.

Small Stone 2/2

Too tired to be reading a novel full of ancient Spartan names that I could never pronounce, I keep reading the same sentence over and over again, and with each attempt, by the time I make it to the period, my eyeballs are jiggerbating, and I'm the same five words short of comprehension.

Small Stone 2/1

The room looks as though my girls threw a party, and used their clothing and Littlest pet shop toys as confetti.

Small Stone 1/31

School's out, and the campus erupts with a mass of little bodies that flood the block along with their parents' automobiles.

Small Stone 1/30

The window is naked, no drapery, no shutters or blinds, and the light shining through is the only one on the block; it's stark, vulgar even, like an invasion in the otherwise solid darkness, and I keep wondering when my neighbors are going to turn it off.

Small Stone 1/29

Cigarette smoke and steaming breath mingle together as I exhale into the cold night.

Small Stone 1/28

A parade of blondes in mini skirts of silky and metallic fabrics walk by our table in Panera; a local sorority arriving for their luncheon.

Small Stone 1/27

I squeal as I plant my bare butt on the cold porcelain.

Small Stone 1/26

Slipping between layers of freshly laundered cotton, cool down molds to my body.

Small Stone 1/25

The cake, dense and gooey, sticks to my teeth; it's heavy on the cocoa and light on the sugar.

Small Stone 1/24

Sea foam, coral, aqua... rich hues that are bright, vibrant, almost alive in the wet paint, but as soon as the brush sets them on bone-dry ceramic, all moisture disappears, and the colors fade to a pale memory.

Small Stone 1/23

High-pitched, forced, and angry, it screeches through its escape from my sister's bowels, as though they're too inhospitable to host even a small amount of gas. It sounds the same every time, like a desperate scream to "Get me the hell outta here!" then it fills the room with the odor of a decomposing rodent.

Small Stone 1/22

Her black form sweeps from one end of the courtyard to the other with a dancer's grace, her fluted bill in search of the scarlet locusts that sometimes grow here. She pauses all but her rapidly buzzing wings, and in the briefest of moments, the hummingbird reveals her iridescent masque of amethyst, violet, and plum.

Small Stone 1/21

We look at each other in the filtered light of a gloomy day which has seeped into our room between wood shutters. It's only mid-day, but our kids are gone for the night, so we lie in our bed, basking in naked silence and love for one another.

Small Stone 1/20

I'm drunk on hammock-worthy sunshine that saturates me in heat, bone-deep, so when I have to open my eyes, it's like raising plutonium.



 

Small Stone 1/19

Telling me what she did at Grandma and Papa's:
"We played-ed!"

Small Stone 1/18

As I climb out of bed, stiff joints rebel, and it takes a few staggered steps to overpower the pain of another cold morning.

Small Stone 1/17

It didn't wither or turn brittle in it's death, like a leaf, or frond, or petal;  instead, the cactus decomposed from the inside out, leaving a hollow - but fully intact - spiny grey shell, ready to deflate at the slightest touch.

Small Stone 1/16

The washing machine rings like tinnitus, alerting me its cycle has ended.

Small Stone 1/15

Typing out the year, I pause halfway, to recalculate in my head, and all of a sudden '666' appears. 

I remind myself I'm using a touch screen keyboard. 

I tell myself that the keys react to even the slightest touch. 

I nearly make myself believe that a finger must have been hovering close enough above the number key, that it felt my warmth and reacted.

I'm almost convinced I don't believe in ridiculous, superstitious omens. 

Almost.

Small Stone 1/14

The baby, butt-naked in all her cherubic beauty, lies on a blanket of fur. It's sepia toned, but color has been added, to rose her lips, to blush her cheeks, and to accentuate the gold band around her chubby thigh. The portrait was taken in 1917, and is the prelude to a lifetime's worth of divalicious photos of my grandmother.

Small Stone 1/13

He's whistling a tune while he walks, like a character in a classic musical; maybe it would would be charming, were this strange man not seeming to follow me down every aisle, invading my body space, and staring at my daughter.

Small Stone 1/12

The morning clouds are

Platinum white flames,

Feather-painted

Across the silvered blue infinity.

Small Stone 1/11

You smell the bell pepper more than anything else, and it isn't the sweet crisp scent of a freshly cut red, but the sharp aroma of a bitter green. There is also a hint of sausage, or rather the pungent but not overpowering spice that gives the sausage it's distinct flavor, maybe fennel? Yet, when you bite into the dense slice, it's the BBQ sauce you taste first - a full-bodied blend heavy with molasses, and the sweetness cuts through the fragrant seasonings in the meat, tempering them to perfection. Though you don't notice the small amount of undrained fat that has coagulated through the ground beef and pork you're eating in a cold sandwich, by the time you finish the last bite of your Father-in-Law's gourmet meatloaf, a thin film coats the roof of your mouth.

Small Stone 1/10

Her too-long snout, the feature that defys her alleged Beagle pedigree, rests in my lap, wearing a hint of a beard; some terrier blood, maybe?

When I forget to stroke her lemon-colored fur, she climbs up to the back of the sofa, where she can nuzzle my neck. It astounds me, the depth of the love I have for this creature. It almost seems a betrayal to call her a dog; though definitely not human, she is, without a doubt, family.

Small Stone 1/9

"Mommy, my tooth is still here.. The tooth fairy didn't come."

Oh crap!

Small Stone 1/8

It takes a while for her to settle, for the wiggles to subside, but slowly she succumbs to the comforts of a hug and a heater blanket, and then she's asleep in my arms, like when she was a baby. Her warm breath fogs on my chin, and the faint smell of her Grandma's shampoo lingers on the silken threads of her hair that tickle my nose as I too nod off for a Sunday nap.

Small Stone 1/7

A delicate peach-skinned lobe glides between tongue and teeth.

Small Stone 1/6

An idiot in a white pick-up doesn’t realize I have the right of way.
He honks… and honks… and honks.
I remind myself my kids are in the car.
I swallow my pride and a mouthful of vulgarities,
and keep my middle finger on the steering wheel.

Small Stone 1/5

Without my glasses,

The moon is a splitting ovum

Swimming in cobalt vapors.

Small Stone 1/4

Early this evening, she yields her glory to the moon, yet even in the twilight you can see that this death-plagued wintering landscape is unworthy of her golden glow.

Small Stone 1/3

The grouping of reeds at the mouth of the stream has been chopped down to sloppy stubs, so it looks like a shoddy shave job left a five o'clock shadow on the surface of the water.

Small Stones Jan 1 & 2

1/2 - I begrudge them the time as though it were some tangible belonging of value they'd robbed me of, rather than mere minutes of thought.

1/1 - LED icicles dance in an easy breeze, casting miniature spotlights that chase each other across the stucco wall.


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