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Wind Chimes and Silent Snow

Weight of the world day,

Explosions rock our sense of security,


While we wrestle with dread of gun registries,

As if we fear our own government,

More than any Al Qaeda.

More than any Bin Laden,

We worry what those we put in charge,

Will do or not do,

To us and for us.

As if having a secret gun in the closet,

Will save us from tanks,

Or worse,

And more real,

The slow erosion of our freedoms,

Happening right under our noses.

The bankers are still making their,

Multi-million dollar bonuses,

And I will never see the end of student loan debt,

No rest for the wicked possibly.

The cries of the wrong things,

The frightening things,

Are stunning and loud,

My ears cannot bear the noise,

The screams,

The shattering glass,

The shattered faith.

I follow a cat out into the night,

For I can think of nothing better to do,

Having gorged on too much Huffington Post,

And done time in the Twitter-verse.

It’s freezing outside,


Which at first only adds to the despairing breeze,

Until a thread of wind chimes,

Soft in the distance,

Winds through the madness of the day,

Quiets the mind just enough,

To take a full breath,

To remember where true security resides,

To hear only,

The silent snow.

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013chimes


Oh Ginny NaPoWriMo #6

A room of her own?
Oh how unromantic you are,
Virginia Woolf.

Really Ginny?

A room all your own?

Then I grew up.

A room of my own?
Oh what a wise woman you are,
Virginia Woolf.

Yes, please.

On second thought…

Make that a house. dreamcabin

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013

Middle of the Night Madness NaPoWriMo #5

I watch a raggedy mother cat coaxing her 2 kittens into our house,
Because whatever hunts out there tonight has all the animals twitching.
She runs back and forth,
From the tool shed where they hide, to our door.
They are too scared to follow and she meows and meows while both our hearts break.

She caught between tool shed and safety.
I caught between all the Need,
Inside and out.

The wind blows as we chase away
Several huge tomcats,
Drawn by the ruckus and the pans of food,
Which in this moment,
I regret ever putting outside.

I spin helplessly in the breeze,
The sound of wind chimes a background melody to the ongoing,
Never ending fight for survival.

Not for the first time I wonder why.
Not for the first time I wonder who exactly I am trying to save.

You who I watched in ignorance,
Slipping away in a methamphetamine haze?
You who walked straight toward disaster?
You who I tried and failed to impact?
All the you’s who no longer exist?

Mama cat stands guard, the still blowing wind parting her fur.
At some point I have to shut the door.
At some point this story ends,
They always do.
It’s just hard when you’re not the One doing the writing.

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013

The Rejecting Silence NaPoWriMo #4

We’ve all been there,
Made a comment,
Sent an email,
Or way back when written a letter,
That went unanswered,
Utterly ignored,
Your answer a cavernous,

I had a friend once,
He said he had to understand,
His personal rejections,
Not always being everyone’s cup of tea,
I suppose there were many.
Obsession was all,
Questioning everyone for,

As if you ever could,
Understand rejection.
We’re not psychic,
And words utterly fail us for description,
Of internal states,
Which fluctuate,
Wildly and ultimately mean,

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013


The Sticky Teal Ribbon – NaPoWriMo Poem #3

We gather this month of April,
Across the Nation,
And put sticky teal ribbons on our clothing.
To say in whatever way we can,
We know what has happened to you,
Victims and Survivors of Rape,
If we haven’t experienced it,
Or prefer not to discuss it,
We know those who have.
We know them in excess.
Mind boggling numbers,
Which if read too often,
Make one look askance at every passing,
Male and wonder,
As if all rapists are men,
Which they are not.
As if all victims are women,
Which they are not.
Thinking about this issue is good.
Speaking up and out is better.
Taking action is best,
But if that’s not possible,
Wearing the sticky teal ribbon,
Is the least we can do,
In this month of April.

Copyright Michelle Wolff 2013

This Spinning World Poem #2 NaPoWriMo

Feral cat Junah grips the floor,
Toes spread,
Claws extended into the rug.
Clearly the world is spinning too fast,
And he must hang on for dear life.
His feeble attempt to slow the pace.

I see friends gripping the rug.
Over scheduled
Overwhelmed and running too fast to stop.
Their eyes roll like wild horses,
Sides heaving in a panic,
To escape the predatory deadlines.

I pet Junah and toss treats.
He relaxes and crunches away.
It will be a few moments before he remembers fear.
If this would work with friends,
I would happily feed them treats too.

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013

NaPoWriMo 30 poems 30 days. Here we go…


It seems the dead follow you around,
Once free of the time space continuum chains.
Unsolicited advice is offered at every turn.
Prattling on about everything,
Are you really going out in that?
Why can’t you be more like your sister, the lawyer?
That’s an interesting haircut.
As if now that they are dead,
You suddenly care what they think.

copyright Michelle Wolff 2013

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