SHOW OF HANDS - A New Poem

Okay, seriously . . . a show of hands: how many of you can relate to this?

Tough-Talk Monday Morning

by Judith Cullen

© 2019

The alarm is the first to speak up,

klaxon of Monday's dawn arrival.

Could another 30 minutes be stolen?

The voice of commuting cars nearby

confirm time will not, cannot wait.

I want to stomp my foot, to rage.

I want all the little things to inflate

to insulate against things that matter

the things that hurt, wound, frustrate:

despair, anger, and disappointment.

My aged inner voice says, "grow up!"

wild, childish passions of the weekend

are banished, rinsed away in the froth

of cooling lavender scented soapsuds.

Then standing, fully rational and adult

I face the chill air of a brand new week.

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*NEW POEM* On the Inevitability of Autumn

Gone Back to School

by Judith Cullen

© 2019

As if there were books involved,

pencils and pens, sharp and new,

backpacks crisp from purchase.

Though decades have passed since

our feet trod the waxy floors,

the reality of autumn is here, and

we have all gone back to school.

The carefree mists of summer

have all evaporated in entire.

No more pretext of long days,

no more buoyant assumptions

as the world seems endlessly

in bloom and perpetual growing.

We have all gone back to school.