Patti Masterman Poems

Dear things that make the long day brief
Small joys that bring me hope to live
You are neither least nor the most of these
But form and reason to my days give.
...

He told me then how he'd return
When the flowers opened in spring
Even though the sun might burn-
The bluebells forget how to ring.
...

Emotion is the train you're riding
And it can take you anywhere
It's rails were built for speed and purpose
To lighten burden's heavy care.
...

Some things are born
Without a cry or even a whimper:
Love, in the lover's heart
Fear, in the mother's breast
...

Fragile human creature:
A delicately enclosing bud
Sunlight passing through the heart
Pouring itself out perfectly
...

The cruciferous prophet sticks in my teeth-
I think I'd rather have a tidbit, of thief;
All covered, of course, in a vinegar sauce
With just a light dusting, of the true cross.
...

I always knew you'd make me watch you die
Even as a child it seemed unfair
To have to watch one's father or mother
Suffer even unto that final stare.
...

I'd rather have his disdain
Than somebody's worship;
Would rather see him smirk
Than anybody smile.
...

At night do you feel me there
Watching you sleep, like ragged death
At war with your blankets; fogging breath
Sometimes I talk to you then
...

The blanket in airy emptiness
Squeezes it's knobby not-knees together
In some vacuous semblance
Of dehydrated human form
...