Sunshine

They stuck the pieces together carefully, like they were pieces of gold. Each piece was special: a puzzle piece like that could not be found again. It was an old jigsaw puzzle, almost antique. The children's grandfather had given it to them when they had turned ten. Together. Their birthdays were always on the same day-they were twins.
Ralphie and Lynn couldn't help but love jigsaw puzzles. They had lived with their grandfather most of their lives, and their grandfather was an expert at puzzles. He always said that puzzles strengthed the mind. He remembered everything. When Lynn and Ralphie had sked him what his oldest memory was, he had replied, "My father hugging me when I was born."
Grandpapa had wrinkles the shape of puzzle pieces. Lynn thought that his face was a very much like a jigsaw puzzle-hard to figure out. She had worn his cheeks with kisses. Ralphie, who had started to think himself a young gentleman, was too manly for that now. But even he could not help but hug Grandpapa tightly when they went to his house.
The puzzle was almost complete, only the sun was missing, when their mother rushed in, tears sparkling like diamonds on her cheeks.
"Oh! Darlings! Your grandpapa, he's...he's," she hesitated. Lynn and Ralphie's hearts skipped a beat together. A rush of fear flooded their minds. Lynn suddenly had the urge to clamp her hand on her mother's mouth. Let not the awful truth come! But...
He was dead. Grandpapa had died. Nothing painful, just a heart attack. He couldn't have felt more pain than his grandchildren. And how much pain they felt! Lynn felt like her heart had dropped on the ground and cracked. All of Ralphie's manliness had slipped away with his grandfather's life. He cried openly now, not even bothering to wipe his tears. His friends had deserted him when he needed them most. And Lynn's friends stayed when she wanted them to go.
The day of the funeral finally arrived. Lynn had been dreading it. Though it seemed silly, she spent hours deciding what dress she was going to wear. Most of her clothes were black, a colour her grandfather hated. She finally chose her long skirt and blouse. But they weren't black.
When Lynn arrived at the funeral, all eyes followed her like magnets. She heard someone gasp. In pink and white, she looked like she didn't care at all. They didn't know how much she cared. Enough to humiliate herslef in front of the priest, her mother, her friends, everybody.
During the funeral Ralphie had felt his heart being buried with his grandfather. He couldn't bear to watch Grandpapa die. It seemed like yesterday when he gave them the puzzle. Only yesterday.
Yesterday they had been arranging the puzzle. When Ralphie went home, it was still there. Incomplete. He picked up the last piece, and finished it.

The sun was shining.

Lost Dog

A scent...
she sniffs her nose.
Now its on the ground.
Past candy wrappers,
and cotton candy sticks,
she zig-zags through the maze.
A mime makes a face,
but she doesn't care.
Only one aim:
find.
And until she doesn't,
she'll keep sniffing
with her nose on the ground.

Beneath the Flowers

Beneath the flowers
that try to smother the stink,
I can still smell pain.

War of Words

The pen held upright
like a sword.
Both;
Ready to fight
for all he was worth.

“We’re neck deep in trouble,”
wrote He.
“We can’t stop now,”
wrote his double,
and took out his paper.

“Ready?”
wrote He.
“Go!”
wrote his double
and they bent over.

Two humps
scribbled
all the insults that they could think of
in ten minutes.
Scratch, scratch.

“Ring! Ring!”
screamed the alarm.
Both humps got up.
“Mine are better!”
wrote He right away.

“No! Mine are!”
penned the other angrily.
They decided
Logically
to call their mother.

Poor fools were punished
right away.
Mother led them away
By their ears,
red and stinging now.
Two brothers
fought each other.
None could speak now:
They had lost their pens and papers
and both were dumb.

The Music's Still Inside Me

Dancing to the beat
of my rhythmic wooden spoon.
Fiddle playing right outside.
(spin, ladies, spin!)
Twirl my way
into my lover’s arms,
a bowl of dough in my hands.
(turn, twist, splat!)

The cleanings finished,
the chores are done,
and I’m washing my hands.
(Tap, Tap, Tap)
The music’s still inside me,
my lover’s at the door.
Who says I can’t
Dance anymore?

Blizzard

Numb

hands
and
freezing

toes.
Only warmth

is coming from
my heart.
Nose

frozen;
ears

icicles.
Wind

howling

like a

wolf

at the moon.

Aware and

so

sleepy

that I could just

d

r

o

p.

Want to

lie down

on the blanket

of ice

and wrap myself

in clouds

of snow.

Maybe

it will

make my dreams

softer

if I dream

with soft feathers

for my pillow.

But I trudge

on

with hailstones

prickling my face

like pins,

my brains supply

thoughts of

finally getting

home.

I

trudge

on.