11.01.2013

Smells Like Town Spirit

Not sure why my town smells
like it bathed in patchouli
on the morning after Halloween,
but the scent dulls my memory
of last night’s dream:
Someone was bullying my child.
I awoke all grizzly-mama,
but now even my coffee
tastes like it was brewed
at a music festival,
so I put on some hippie tunes
for my commute to work,
where I’ll start November
in a haze of patchouli & peace
love, understanding--
letting bullies recede, fade away.

Hello! This is poem number ONE of 30 poems I’ll write in November to benefit the Center for New Americans. If you’re a faithful reader here, you know that in recent months, I’ve been managing far fewer than one poem per day, so this will be a real challenge. I’d be tickled if you’d consider sponsoring my efforts at any amount. Thank you!
My Fundraising Page for 30 Poems In November