Over Shots

English: River Scene with overshot mill


dusk settling all around me

wild animals knowing hope in flight ascend

my humanness lost in waves


I don’t do it like that, she said, you aren’t listening, you never get it right

I do it the way I do it… letting her talk on, glad she lives yet another night


you are really something says he, I am so excited to have found you, what odds!

public meeting never possible, wife in house while he prowls internet broads


if you run out of money what will you do, I can’t think so far ahead I tell my friend

unfamiliar with ever making do, stretching pennies you do not have until they bend


I need a new bra today because the wires in my last good white bra poke sharp

groceries, gas and medicine must wait, tiny fabric costs ten times a canvas tarp


people who live in glass churches should never judge another

happen the whore who washes the feet somebody’s kind mother

barren perhaps but not a birth required for helping needy guest

mothers we are all called to be, some a little more, others less


I don’t even know what stage of life I am at,  said she.

Nor do I, but I don’t think the stage matters so much as the quality of life, I don’t know where I am either but it’s okay because I know where I’m not.

Yes, she said, that’s right. It was a lovely afternoon of flower and seed planting with me, 35 years her junior more able, mothering my friend.


Life always seems to improve when I contemplate the alternative.


JAM 21Jun2012



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