she stares at a midnight page
frankness, beginning and end
the cure, a changing heart
i am not art
but I know her
resting on park bench
she contemplates lateral thinking
how they had smirked
at her “what ifs”
she tries to wrap her mind around it
the idea that ink found new home in nice-looking flowery jacket
with half-crazed sunny-faced owner
thoughts dismissed
time to write new page
by mary ann blinkhorn
just as you must do?
why fade out and then rise?
at the end of the story
you’re supposed to fade out
find your place in the universe
shine for all to see . . .
even if your heart is aching?
even if you feel betrayed, hurt … confused?
precisely . . .
have you ever seen tears?
well yes . . .
somebody else’s tears, i mean?
well of course!
they glisten in the sun, don’t they?
well yes, i suppose so . . .
then what happens to them?
i dunno?
you look up in the sky at night
and there they are
part of the universe
people look up to them
because they see that
they now inhabit the sky
instead of running down cheeks
i never thought of it that way . . .
precisely
but do they ever return to being tears?
but of course
tears are part of our existence
stars
to tears
to stars
and it goes on like that
i suppose . . .
how about catching a movie?
would you like that?
sure
by mary ann blinkhorn
if ever again
i feel the winds
of white sheets flapping
i shall listen to seagulls
or to whomever come nearest
to their callings
i write deeper tonight
right shoulder turned
toward window
truths hovering over stars
long enough to gather them
hold them
lull them to sleep
beneath the sun
by mary ann blinkhorn
shake the living daylights
watch stars falling
downward
never hitting sidewalk
for they’ve joined the rain
windblown
round and round
by mary ann blinkhorn
mypenandme 