can you plead with a knee
when there is no heart above it?
there was a heart below it,
that loved
that lived
that wept
as the world watched
another white man
steal a black man’s life
5-27-2020
George Floyd
Mother
bathe me
clothe me
steady my timid feet
before I till the soil
and plant my own garden
someday I will
bathe you
clothe you
steady your feeble feet
and lead you
back to the garden
so you can rest
5-10-20
Periphery
Tired
the kind of tired
where even your ribs ache
from holding it in
I breeze through a cemetery
where dandelions push
their blonde heads
toward the sun
to remind us
that life goes on
Even though I am not ready to move on
I have already watched you fade
into the old you and grieved
at the foot of a stranger’s plot
I am tired of losing you
So I leave you here, where I can visit
and remember the times when your eyes
kept me in focus
and forget the times when
they pushed me
into the periphery
5-10-20
If
It is no longer when
but if
I’ll ever see you again
Nothing is guaranteed
so I cuddle the dog
and stare at the pregnant neighbor
as I wash the dishes
I wonder what it’s like
to bring new life into a dying world
She rakes the soil
to prepare for spring
and waits
for the birth of a new chapter
On gray days,
I think of the sun laden afternoons
in Yellow Creek
before I jumped ship
and learned to love a new town
and every man who would let me
The uncertainty was thrilling,
but this time it’s different
it’s grief-soaked and lonely
and infinite and screams if
until I forget there ever was a when
All I know today is I love you
If and when and always
4-23-20
Crumbling
Our thighs graze on the couch and I reach for your arm
The senator speaks through a lens and my eyes well
The world is crumbling and so am I,
and here is someone who says it’s ok to crumble,
just not to give up
Later, we pop a bottle of Eight Barrel Syrah
and dance to Billy Joel in our sweatpants
And I think of all the times we’ve crumbed
but haven’t given up
And of all the beauty we would miss
if we were so focused on ourselves
The world is weeping together now
maybe something will change
4-9-20
Patience
Dodging passersby like bullets,
my feet clap against the concrete
and leave invisible prints,
a timestamp of sweat,
I was here
But so were you
You linger in the breeze like pollen
Everything is shared now, even apart
Sometimes we hold our breath
because the air can kill us
We fill our lungs with patience
to keep them from collapsing
and make a wish,
even though there are no candles
and we can’t exhale
4-6-20
Shortness of breath
four walls
one breath
circulating endlessly
I can’t catch it,
even in good health
maybe it’s knowing
that you will die
that I will die
that someone I know will die
maybe it’s the rent
or utilities
or hard rain falling
on the bedroom window
when I’m nearly asleep
maybe it’s knowing
that we have no way out
you pace in circles
until the vinyl is worn
you wallow in nostalgia
until your cheeks are wet
and you tell me you texted her
because you worry
but you don’t worry about PPE
or the local nursing home
or the diabetic who raised me
you worry about her,
and ask “how is business?”
while she’s on a date,
vacationing in another state
as if there was never a virus
and we were never a factor
then you ask me why I’m quiet
and I say the oxygen is thin
(I want to share it, not fight for it)
3-29-20
Once was
Cells pumping in veins
like Texas oil,
thick and black as night,
red as waning sunlight
then the peace of disappearing hope
and the stagnant warmth of stillness
It hangs on me like dead skin–
an extra layer of once was,
the dichotomy of rain and rust,
and everything that should be
but isn’t
and everything that will be
but shouldn’t
01-30-20
Hard Work
Robin Hood, the wayfaring thief that fed the hungry,
has disappeared like the humanity
that prompted him in the first place
Friar Tuck tried to save the poor,
but the rich have always claimed
their full pockets are God’s blessings
Hard Work pays off, they say,
and pays no taxes
Hard Work pays no mind
to the misty eyes of the beggar
or the sex worker or the addict
Because Jesus made his choice
If only they could see,
Jesus was more of a Robin Hood
than a billionaire
11-19-19
Clean
Shhhhh
I can hear him now
He knows what he’s spinning,
but fragility is a master crafter
and he is her apprentice
He tiptoes on eight legs
and argues that he is complex,
but I don’t think so
We all keep secrets in the bathtub
next to the soap
so when we cast silken nets
and late night texts,
we can clean what we catch
Anyway, stoking the fire
is better than burning bridges
and social media is just a pleasantry
So he reaches with each limb
to keep his web from crumbling,
but what’s left of our nest
has already fallen
You see, some secrets grow up
to be big black holes
and I won’t be sucked
into someone else’s mess
10/22/19
Gretchen Pleuss 