plumbers

It seems that water creates most of the maintenance issues in my home. I'd much rather it be water than electricity.
Plumbers for the most part, are nice people.
I mean, who can stay on their knees for their work, and not be humble?
Really, it's like they are in a state of prayer.
And what are they dealing with? Water
Water is a symbol for life.
How can you work with water all day
and not think of the most basic element to all of the life
on planet earth?
I think it would be impossible.
Do plumbers get thirsty?
Do plumbers by bottled water?
Do plumbers get a rush when they turn the valves
and feel the vibration of water coursing through
the veins of a home?
I'm guessing they do.
And I think that is why
I like plumbers.

A stake through my heart.
I tap it gently, a little every day
Making sure the edges are sealed

Then I trip, bump into a picture
or a coach, or a tennis shoe,
or a baseball laying in my yard

A basketball, flat on one side
and a blade of grass blowing in front of it.
The wind blows the blade of grass
and I turn my back to the breeze
So I won't see the waving on the grass
Like the waving of hand
which I thought was a temporary farewell

If I had known it would be forever
I would have held on just a little tighter
and a little longer

I may have ended up with torn lightaments in my elbows
and shoulders
As they pried you away from me
But atleast I could have slept
that night, and all the others that follow

When I wake up at 3 am now,
my heart racing
I jump, alert
And want to run to to your room
to see you sleeping peacefully

But I only get up
and walk by your door
Knowing that it is just for storage
of other people's things
And my heart
broken
lying all over the room

And I tap the stake in my heart while I wander back to bed
And I pray that you are sleeping with the angels
Because they aren't in my house anymore
They left with you
And I am left with the shell of a house
That used to be our home

And I don't want to be here anymore.
This place is simply a container
of grief, and loss, and tears of a thousand years
and a hundred sleepless nights

Flu

At 51, the flu knocked me down, like a freight train. I've been sick a week, 7 days. And it feels like forever. Depression is bearing down on me, too. I wonder will I ever feel like myself again.