lynette friesen

Snowflakes like pancakes
weighed down the boardwalk branches
a home made for two.

The forecast said snow
So they cancelled the party
School and the pageant.

The wind was bitter
I found bills for the red can
and gave a quick smile.

The papers to write,
even though I’m not going to start,
sit waiting for me.

He leaned way over
and his hat fell on the ice.
So we found a stick.

Mama Do you know where to find

Mary and Joseph and the Innkeeper and baby Jesus?

The ones from our set?

I'll give you a hint.  They're in my socks.

Giggles lift the weight of the day and happiness clears the tired air.

Bless the son.

caught faking his life.

but how would he know?  so he denies it.

He runs from authenticity

and that’s as real as he can be.

Sure it rings hollow as a bell,

that’s how he knew he must be faking,

but he hears the bell, so that’s what he tells her.

It must be true, the first idea not the second.

although when he can make his soul squint at the sight, he sees something else, perhaps the second idea.  Or maybe both.

His life feels like reading a foreign language because he can pronounce every word but has no idea what he’s saying.

relaxed

and courteous.

radiating measureless love

joy

and light.

smiling.

You look calm and fun, like God.

That’s what I think.

That’s what I see.

How is it possible

that 2 shots of electricity

can jump the 3 feet

between 4 sandal-tanned feet

on a cool end of summer night?

late bedtimes

followed by intermittent naps.

skin brushing skin

in bathing suits at the beach. 

digging, gardening

and pulling weeks in your yard.

every age rediscovers the joys

of old secrets.

anticipation

late afternoon drowsiness

followed by red wine.

Six kids with glow sticks,

the sky is dark and people

are trying to sleep.

Anger walking

In a brand new, bright blue Boys and Girls Club t-shirt

At the beach.

(The burden of the stereotype catches me by surprise,

as it hasn’t consciously weighed me down in a few weeks.)

He wanders between

Mounds of sand spraying children.

Hills of half-wet sand.

A medium sized hole being filled with water.

Buckets turned upside down that form messy broken-down spires

A feather stuck in a bump here or there.

Feet dug and covered with lizard-like sandskin.

Randomly wet circular moats.

Nothing of note,

Nothing worth saving.

From a distance no progress is being made.