Daily Archives: June 4, 2009

Before I Became a Mermaid #2

For Rich*bicycle

Before I became a mermaid I could ride a bicycle
Then one day I grew that tail

Now my bike is rusting in the shed

Unused
With my old piano
My brownie scout uniform
And those old Beatle albums.

Don’t need those here in the creek
Floating under mama’s mimosa tree with the crabs and croakers
Breathing in brackish water
Breathing out memories

Missing the sweet sounds of my youth

*When my friend Rich read my first mermaid poem his immediate response was “You don’t need legs to play a piano…but you need them to ride a bicycle.”

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Dark Aroma

DarcyThe dark aroma of strong coffee rose up to meet her as she fumbled for the light switch. For the hundredth time she thanked the coffee gods for her automatic Cuisinart grind and brew. Keeping her eyes closed she let her nose lead her in the direction of the coffee maker. Her left hand found the mug. Her right hand made sure the opening was facing in the right direction before she poured the coffee. Only when she had gulped down half a cup of the miraculous mud did she open her eyes. Just a bit.

The sky was still darkened by storm clouds. Were it not for the rumble of the garbage truck one might mistake it for midnight instead of 5:00 am.

Another ordinary Thursday morning.

She swallowed her vitamins and washed them down with another mouthful of coffee.

She placed the mug on the counter and bent over to touch her toes. Standing forward bend. Relax. Fly away.

Thursday morning. She would stop at the gym on the way to work. Shower and change after her workout. She could relax a while before putting on the workout clothes that were probably still damp from yesterday. Their dark aroma festering in her gym bag.

She poured another cup of coffee and walked into the front room. She sat down without turning on a light, hugged her knees to her chest and sipped her coffee. Bliss. Relax. Fly away.

Her peaceful interlude came to abrupt end when she was joined on the couch by her two always exuberant canines. The Samoyed circled clockwise several times before settling comfortably at her right knee. The Dalmatian straddled her and quickly delivered 22 Dalmatian kisses. “Too much tongue, Darcy,” she laughed as she hugged the liver-spotted dog. The dark aroma of last night’s Science Diet now mixing with her tepid coffee.

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