Pulling Beauty From

The tolerant hairstyle is recentWindow_Reflection
hiding some of her frumpiness
but it does some justice to
this grumpy mean-cold woman
who mumbles distant curses

A gone dry long ago river
smiling she admires herself
in the grocery store window
roughly removing a stray hair
as she approves of the look

With wrinkles like trenches
protecting her facade from war
a visage seen before bleakly
staring back from a gun turret

Waiting for something to move
as if to feed on a life
like a bitter soldier, unaware
as she takes but never gives

The canyon of her soul
echoes the wail of sorrow
the groan of dying tree
but for this one moment
looking back from the glass
she is a smiling touch of beauty

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Pulling Beauty From

Pulling Beauty From

The distressing hairstyle is recentOld Woman Looking in a Window
taking some of the frumpiness
but it does her cruel justice
this grumpy mean-cold woman
who mumbles distant curses
at a gone dry long ago river

She is admiring herself
in the grocery store window
roughly removing a stray hair
as she approves of herself
with wrinkles like trenches
protecting her face from war

A face seen before bleakly
staring back from a gun turret
waiting for something to move
waiting to feed her life
with that of one unaware
that she takes but never gives

The canyon of her soul
echoes the wail of sorrow
the groan of dying tree
but for this one moment
looking back from the glass
is a smiling touch of beauty

Because even she is surprised
as a glimmer of light dances
over the green of her eye making
her look almost sexy so that
she can’t help but giggle at the
cruelty of her sordid emptiness

Pulling Beauty From

That Baseball

That baseball…baseball coming down
oh no!
That baseball
is coming right down on my head!

Forcing my instincts to duck or run away
deep into the crevices of my soul
as I defensively hold the glove out.
The ball thumps into it, but I hold on
as it slams my nine year old body to the ground

That baseball…
oh no!
That baseball
is coming right down on my head!

Quickly setting the soda on the seat
and holding my hands cupped above my head
watching the ball slamming off my 12 year old hand
hurting more than a baseball should
only to be snatched out of the air
by an old, fat, grinning, guy behind me

That baseball…
oh no!
That baseball
is coming right down on my head!

only because I’ve been running to catch it
and when I’m close I realize I’ve misjudged
but stop just in time to have the ball
bounce off my 25 year old shoulder
and into my glove, helping to win the game.

That baseball…
oh no!
That baseball
is coming right down on my head!

Stepping aside, it barely misses my 60 year old body,
thumps sadly to the ground and rolls away
only to be recklessly followed by a ten year old
who thoughtlessly chases it into the street
where a honking car screeches to a halt
but I’m thinking I should have let the ball hit me.

That Baseball