Brennan, Gone Too Soon

(for his mother Sheila)


He roared like a lion

like the ocean

crashing against the rocky shore

(insides thrashing one struggle to the next).


They say still waters run deep.

Sometimes, noisy waters run deeper.


Run, and jump, and probe, 

trying to find purchase

or

trying to find quiet. 


There’s a hole in the bottom of the deep blue sea.

The blue green sea that is the color of his eyes.

Always bringing him home.

Bringing him to his mother’s door, 

Bringing him to his mother’s shore.

He’s there in the laugh of the seagulls;

in the storms that rumble and tumble your head 

only to bring sun the next morning.

He’s in the clouds that darken your door one minute 

but break into amusing fluffy shapes the next.

He’ll turn up and surprise you

just when you’re least expecting it. 


He was, and always will be 

after all.


Terri

She is not particularly pretty

and her nose is a little too strong

but as the heat and light of an oven

changes a little of this and little of that

into a delicious dessert,

She smiles.

Read also, “The Secret of Sisters”, dedicated to my sister Terri

It’s Happening Again

Yellow gray skies 

again 

pervade my world.

They are the color 

of the fangs 

I want to bare 

and snap and snarl 

at everyone 

and everything.

Gray ash falls 

from the sky 

as if snow 

was always

the color of sorrow

as if trees 

wished

to be licked by flames

before peeling

and disintegrating

in fire’s embrace.

This is the afterbirth 

of a fire

whose breath lingers

on your clothes 

and in your hair

and

builds a nest in your lungs

like a starling, making 

your every breath rattle

through the branches.

Robin Gabbert, November 2020

Splitting Hairs

They say she keeps 

her feelings bottled up

yes

I am a classic introvert 

I suppose 

however 

it might be more accurate 

to say

her feelings are like 

the hand grenade 

your crazy Uncle Joe 

brought back from Vietnam

and keeps in a shoebox 

under his bed

or 

like the balls of twine

Muffy bats around the room

until they’ve been dashed back 

and forth a few dozen times

except when 

they’re like 

the hot caramel 

on top of an ice cream sundae

or 

the face

of a Dali clock

Robin Gabbert, November 2020