Things I Shouldn’t

Sometimes I think things I shouldn’t, and
I wonder if I’m helping them come
true.  I’ve heard that our thoughts become
what the world looks like through

our eyes, and I believe that for the 
most part.  But what about the horror
writers?  Is Stephen King’s mind 
filled with terror?  Is he afraid?  Haunted

by his own imagination? Is the dystopia
we live in all Margaret Atwood’s fault
for imagining it in the first place? Where
is the line between holding our fear just

long enough to heal it and creating a world
we never wanted? I need to know, because
sometimes I think things I shouldn’t. Like when
I imagine what life would be like if you were

gone.  One day, we will say goodbye for the
last time, and chances are, we won’t even
know it.  When I get your text -- “Home. Thanks
for everything” -- only then do I realize that

my breathing has been shallow for eight 
hours while you’ve been on the road.
And I am able to forget again that one 
day we will have to say goodbye for

real. I am safe in my home and you in
yours, and I can imagine that we will
see each other at Christmas, like we 
have for half a century or more, and we 

can pretend that we always will have 
another Christmas or another visit and
I can forget that sometimes I think things
I shouldn’t. 

© 2020 Deb Moore, All Rights Reserved

Every Now is Slippery

Every now is slippery. 

The 15-minute
rendezvous in Cincinnati,
you driving to Michigan,
us heading back south,
hugs and summaries
in a McDonald’s
parking lot,
a shared laugh
that we managed
to pull this off.

Emily rounding the bases
in Denver,
pigtails bouncing.
Vacations home
spent tagging along
on your routine
as if I really lived there
those five days.  

That visit from mom
when she redid
my entire house,
never stopping,
the way she liked it,
and then it was done,
and she left,
and 15 minutes later
I wanted to hug her
and say I love you
and maybe have
a cup of tea. 

I missed
Christmas ‘88,
but no others,
because that was
sacred –
not necessarily holy,
but sacred.
All running together
now in one big
glittery blur,
some asterisked by
an absence
or a change
or a drama. 

So many moments,
each their own
kind of tradition
in the remembering,
but also each
a separate pinpoint
on a timeline.

I want to
hold two-year-old Emily
in my arms,
her dangling feet
bouncing off my thigh,
my back strong
and able.
But she’s 34 now,
no longer the
big-eyed baby
she will always be to me
and will never be again.

I want to lasso
hold a fistful
of water,
the wind.

But time only
moves forward.
Nothing ever
comes back
around again
the same.

Every now is
held for an
instant —
No, not even held,
just slipping,
always slipping

© 2020 Deb Moore, All Rights Reserved

And . . . We’re Back

After that not-so-quick word from our sponsor, The Holiday Season, we now return to our regularly scheduled blogging.

Thoughts on the New Year:

1.  I have 19 pounds to lose.

2.  Love the holidays and love getting back to the rhythm of everyday life.

3.  No one will ever take care of your dogs the way that you do.

4.  I’ve deleted the word “resolutions” from my vocabulary and have replaced it with “creative spark.”  I will create 2009 like a painting of many layers, not force it into some kind of resolved, strength-of-will, restrictive land of limitations.

5.  I have so much respect and admiration for my sister, Dalinda, that I don’t even know how to tell her that.

6.  I’m grateful that my mom never seems to get any older.

7.  This week I will begin our garden from seeds in our garage and I am convinced that watching something grow will keep January from sucking like it has so much potential to do.

8.  My classes this spring are going to be the best I’ve ever taught.  (I say that every semester and then wonder what the hell happened about six weeks in, but, you know, try, try, again.)

9.  I have a secret belief that 2009 is going to be absolutely fantastic for me because my numerology number is 11 and the number for 2009 is, of course, 11 (2+0+0+9).  I wouldn’t stake such a strong claim on this except that my “Lifetime Numerology Report!” from several years ago predicted some pretty huge things with amazing accuracy.  Also, it’s a positive secret belief, not some fear that horrible things will happen, so I’m going with it.

10.  I love my family more each year.

Happy New Year, everybody!  Create great things!