Something Out of the Ordinary...Some Poetry I'm Working On

Although I don't normally post my creative writing work here, I thought in the interest of diversity and keeping things interesting that I might post a couple of the poems I am/have been working on. These don't explicitly deal with disability, except for one that deals with my daughter's asthma and my struggles with interpreting and trying to accept her struggles. It has some religious overtones...with my final interpretation leading me in the direction of Ivan Karamazov's protest atheism...but that's a topic for another time. So read these and let me know your thoughts...I'm trying to get them cleaned up for submission to be published, but just don't know where else to take them. Perhaps that's one of the pitfalls of being a part-time amateur poet...not enough time to really get good.

First Daughter
This unearthly bundle I carry
In my arms at dawn, tips reaching eyes,
Sleep flushed cheeks and nonsense

Mouth towards me asking,
Between words, my blessing
upon the spreading day.

Mornings spent walking
Through the little world we knew
Her eyes grasping every bright thing
Through the cool shade
of sycamores along the millstream,
then into the open streets

lined by spruce, maple, and heirloom
apple trees that reach out to us
through weathered fences, heavy with fruit.

Later we rest, under a massive
Scotch Pine in a mosaic of fragmented
sunlight. I lay her down by my side,

on the green lawn watching redpolls
and nuthatches Flit from feeder to branch;
her eyes filled with the energy
of such curious things, open to what I
have forgotten to see.

Together, by turns we simply smile; rolling
Her laughing face to me I cannot help but
Sweep her up onto my shoulder;
her unbearable lightness displacing
Worldly chips also of my design.


Flight
Coyote’s sharp call over the dark hill,
In the neighboring farmer’s green wheat field
Breathes wildness back into the rolling hum
Of late-night trucks on highway ninety-one.
Squinting past the night I can make out
Upturned muzzle of creator cousin:
Faint wisps of canine breath drift into dark
Sky dappled with appaloosa star marks
Thickening in lighter clusters along
The spine of the heavens arching above.
My head remembers the imminent dawn;
I slip on my shoes, cross the damp, soft lawn
Looking for the tracks coyote has left
In the damp clay of the winter wheat field.
I will follow them to his daytime den
Where we will hide together from the
Responsible tomorrow sky


Isabelle’s Test
In the beginning it became necessary
To parcel out the leftover suffering
Upon a random sample of children.
To ensure that (if) Christ’s suffering
Was too short-sighted; Insufficient
Compensation for all Of our sins,
Misdeeds, and evil, then just in case,
There would be an ongoing second
Atonement through the calculated
Mathematical asphyxiation of
asthmatic children.