Quill #45 - Fashions (2010)

I tried to help a young girl today.
She was sad and I tried to cheer her.
I didn't know that she wanted to cry,
Rail against fate, and throw her anger
Like shoes aimed toward minds.
My words inflamed her to greater sorrow,
Which befuddled me, confused.
I don't remember choosing emotions
As a monthly runway statement,
A daily garment of ennui.
Dramatic clothing, yes,
Not a cloak of drama,
Reactions but not confabulations.
I left her alone rather than argue.
That made her happier than I had.
She couldn't wait to complain how she was lonely.

Quill #19 - Comforter (2010)

I saw him balance a chair,
On top of a solid wooden desk,
Using one finger of his right hand,
While explaining potential energy.

At night he would recline.
I would climb into sturdy embrace and,
Entranced by the sun-ghosted hair
On his ticklish forearms,
Gently pull strands,
Not knowing how they tugged at his heart.
Body and mind entwined, he never protested.

Annoyed by the same treatment,
A husband doesn't see the china doll in his wife,
Until another blithe sprite comes along
To cajole threads one by one
From a fabric unfrayed by time.