My Grandmother's Face

At last I understand
My grandmother's face -
The pinched-brow frown,
The sour lemon expression,
Even at rest.
Life is more than laughter.
Five decades have pinched my brow, too.

The Big D

A dark horseman's silhouette
Against a dull steel sky,
Cruel piranhas nibbling
At my identity,
A thick bog through which I wade,
Leaden shackles on my wrists,
A shadow self,
A rain-drenched heart,
A smoke-filled soul,
A fog-blocked mind,
My hard, weighty companion
Wrapped in an inky cloak,
Lurking, leaping,
Stalking, seeping,
Taunting, beating,
Down my doors.
A long season of rockslides,
A battering by boulders,
A gray-gowned spectre
Who watches at windows.
A stop.
A halt.
A marrow-deep exhaustion.
A dove-colored shroud
Whose stingy threads
Strain paltry remnants of sunlit life.
This is the Big D.
All
Bow
Down.