Things That Go “Bump!” In The Night
A thin layer of my mother’s womb still covered my face at birth.
When that ominous veil was lifted, the only sight I saw was reality.
But, I have the gift of caution from every glance of my mother’s eyes.
The life line on my right palm is broken into four sections;
each wanders off in a different direction from the rest.
This means nothing in years. It is the mark of individualism.
I have a space between my two middle toes, and the next toe
is longer than the biggest one. This does not make me Lord
and Master of the house. It makes my feet hurt in dress shoes.
I read cards, tea leaves, stones, pluck petals from unfortunate daisies,
and the only thing it gives me is time to think about time wasted.
Heaven is all that is in the stars for me, and that is too far to reach.
So, when I see you look at her, your lips curled in anticipation;
or maybe it is memory of some moment shared, I am reassured
by the knowledge that signs mean nothing in the larger picture.