Friday, April 26, 2024

From the volume of poetry “Cotton Candy on a Rainy Day,” published in 1978. Inspired by an accident that happened on a rainy day while at the Cincinnati zoo with her nephew. The vendor didn’t want to sell cotton candy, because the rain would make it melt.

Cotton Candy On a Rainy Day

Don’t look now

I’m fading away

Into the gray of my mornings

Or the blues of every night

Is it that my nails

keep breaking

Or maybe the corn

on my second little piggy

Things keep popping out

on my face


of my life

It seems no matter how

I try I become more difficult

to hold

I am not an easy woman

to want

The had asked

the psychiatrists psychologists politicians and

social workers

What this decade will be

known for

There is no doubt it is


If loneliness were a grape

the wine would be vintage

If it were a wood

the furniture would be mahogany

But since it is life it is

Cotton Candy

on a rainy day

The sweet soft essence

of possibility

Never quite maturing

I have prided myself

On being in that great tradition

Albeit circus

That the show must go on

Though in my community the vernacular is

One Monkey Don’t Stop the Show

We all line up

at some midway point

To thread our way through

the boredom and futility

Looking for the blue ribbon and gold medal

Mostly these are seen as food labels

we are consumed by people who sing

the same old song Stay:

as sweet as you are

in my corner

Or perhaps just a little bit longer

But whatever you do don’t change baby baby don’t


Something needs to change

Everything some say will change

I need a change

of pace face attitude and life

Though I long for my loneliness

I know I need something

Or someone


I strangle my words as easily as I do my tears

I stifle my screams as frequently as I flash my smile

it means nothing

I am cotton candy on a rainy day

the unrealized dream of an idea unborn

I share with the painters the desire

To put a three-dimensional picture

On a one-dimensional surface

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