streets

I drive

lexington

infuse

heat  watch

people

homeless 

crowd main street

benches

fountains illusions of

comfort

drive

radio junkie

npr

panic fear

my salt tears

juxtapose

green lawns – hot streets

Tates Creek –

Main Street – Peace –

Pain – in just ten minutes

streets

I drive

lexington

infuse

heat  watch

people

homeless 

crowd main street

benches

fountains illusions of

comfort

drive

radio junkie

npr

panic fear

my salt tears

juxtapose

green lawns – hot streets

Tates Creek –

Main Street – Peace –

Pain – in just ten minutes

Give me a straight back chair

tall enough that my ankles rest

under my knees.  Say you will sit

across the table from me every morning

and there drink my humors 

and smile, and reach to touch

my coffee-cupped hands, the sweet 

and the sullen, alike, dropping from 

finger tips, yours and mine.  Say 

This part will never change.

Yesterday, I decided to give up tears, 
Which wasn’t such a bad idea since
All the water in all the creeks and wells
Won’t bring him back, and crying makes
Me tired and the kids fretful. 

Going beyond thesse four sooty walls 
Might bring a little peace or at least
A break from the hurt that oozes
From every crack, which is a mess of
Ooze in this old worn out place. 

My blue dress hangs on me so bad you’d
Think I was a bean pole set to scare crows. 
They’s no pretty fat cheeks anymore either. 
Orville once said they was cherub cheeks. 
He even said, “Freckles don’t hurt you none.”

Freckles always did bother me but they’s so bleached
Out now you’d have to look close to find even one. 
Funny that you wish and wish for something better,
And when it happens all the good is plumb wrenched out. 
If I could, I’d go back to freckles and fat cheeks, too. 

But there’s no going back and right now we’re
Going out that door looking to find something
Stout and fun that don’t look dead or about to die. 
Kids need something to laugh about, but truth told
My grief has boiled until I am as dry as a droughty well. 

Somewheres there’s a swing, and ice cream and beer. 
We’ll find it, and wait real quiet hoping the preacher don’t
Bring the wrath down on our sinful heads. This is sin so 
Needed that it makes me real suspicious of his yelling
About them other danagers he threatens, hoping to keep us safe. 

Truth is, Preacher, there is no safe, and a little sin just might
Make the roof falls and the explosions and the suffocating
A mite easier to suffer, seeing as dead is forever and fun 
Is in might short suppoy on and under this old mountain. 
Come, kids, let’s find some smiles for those pretty faces. 

K. Bruce Florence 
June 30, 2016 

In early morning slant of light
New day calls itself into being

Caught in the spell

The mountain meets its reflection
Somewhere at the silent water’s edge
The line between them
As thin as enigmatic as the veil
Between creator 
And creation

collecting dust
on a coffee table
used to archive
dates of births
weddings,
& funerals.
walnut shells seem 
impenetrable,
but once 
cracked open,
the meat is sweet.
Holy Bible

       The day moves
without our moving it
we are its age
if we had not shared it
with each other
then perhaps with others
or perhaps experienced it alone.  

      Now that this sharing is gone
we look back once
smile on all the memories
we’ve learned
turn
and go 
      forth.

I wasn’t conscious that I was doing it
My wife noticed it
I didn’t do it at home or elsewhere
But for some reason when I was at the hospital
Back when I had cancer
I’d walk around with my chin
Pressed to my chest
And tucked over into my shoulder
“That’s the way you do it
When you’re in the ring
So you don’t get your head knocked off”
She didn’t care for my explanation
“Quit it, you look stupid.”
Rather
As the treatment went along
Got tougher
I’d juke and jive around chairs
Bob and weave around people in the hall
Side step around corners as if slipping punches
As if defeat were coming at me
With jabs, hooks, uppercuts
Crosses
The weaker I got
The more pronounced my defenses
I feinted a jab as the nurse handed me the sippy cup of water
Parried away the blood draw needle
It got to the point that when I was sitting there
Punch drunk from the chemo
I’d roll my head away from imaginary punches
After I got up off the canvas after the last radiation treatment
Standing at the car door
Unsteady on my feet
Knees close to buckling
Gritting my teeth to get the energy
To keep my eyes open
As if I was in the center of the ring afterwards
Waiting for the judge’s decision
I sank down into the car seat
And my wife drove me home

There’s been quite a few miles since
But today I was back at the hospital
Checking on cancer symptoms
I saw an old timer standing in the waiting room
Except for his grossly deformed cauliflower ear
He looked good
Hair neatly combed back
Nose straight
 No scars around the eyes
“Were you a boxer?” I ask.
“Yeah,”
“Pro?”
“Yeah”
“What’s your name?”
“Look, I don’t feel like talking, get lost.”
Yep, he had cancer.
And he knew how to deal with it.
When I walked out of there
I felt like my hand was already raised
It’s good to meet a real fighter
When cancer could be in the opposite corner
I threw up my hands like Rocky in that movie
My wife knew that gesture
She’d seen it from me before
“Come on, Champ, I’ll drive you home,
So you can have your nap.”