Untitled – NaPoWriMo #20

Now, at the start of spring

Winter sends us one last blast

of cold.  Like a dying

patient who rallies

just before he

finally fails,

finally falls

into whatever comes next

Though no one seems to mind

when Winter dies

Winter has one of those,

“it’s a blessing”

deaths,

though, when people say it

about a loved one

(theirs or mine)

I want to scream

or give them a slap

or both,

no matter the circumstances of the death

But the death of

Winter is

another matter.

After all,

we know that

Winter

will always

find her way back.                                                     

Underneath – NaPoWriMo #19

Underneath the surface

is where we find the monsters,

and the treasure.

Under the dirt, the rot, the slimy, wriggling things,

that’s where the proper monsters lie.

The ones we simply can’t face

because they are facets

of our own selves.

But just beyond the monsters,

if we kill them or

beat them or

love them

into submission,

is the priceless treasure

that will transform our lives.