poem

Today, while snow blowing,
Gavin was inside alone.

He’s four.
I entered the house
‘Gavin, you good?’

‘Oh yea, butt crack.’

I went back to work.
At the end of the driveway,
some 340 ft away,

Daydreams can cripple

It’s closing in on 7 PM
Gavin is downstairs
watching a movie
yelling out the names
of dinosaurs I can’t pronounce

Maybe it’s time I daydream
about smiles
and bouncing hair

-M. Taggart

Poem – To Trust

It was bitter cold as the sun sunk into slumber.
Trust rang its bell over the ice-covered lake,
waiting to learn – The constant wind
blew snow into faces and froze lungs
fighting for oxygen – Again the bell rang,
cracking the ice, leading the way.

-M. Taggart

poem-

I remember telling her, “We’re dating now.”
She cried
She was drinking wine
I was drinking a Manhattan
in a restaurant over looking the common
in Mystic, Connecticut
I remember she stood to hug me
tears all over
clasping her hands over her mouth.
What kind of asshole was I?
We’re dating now?
I was lucky to be sitting with her
Lucky to even know her
I was that fucked up
I didn’t know how to love
I’m better at it now
Thanks to her
And I hope she
adores this poem-
Megan is the mother
of our son.
God-
I love her

-M. Taggart

So it goes

My head is a bit off tonight
and my heart too
I saw things I wished I hadn’t
in someone I care about
A few looks go a long way
when the looks are more honest
than the words after
Things break
Especially trust

-M. Taggart

First Light

If you can’t admire the brilliance of first light
I suggest looking in the mirror and telling yourself you’re worth it
Trust yourself a bit more, Love yourself deeper
Because you can’t admire the light if you’ve
Never truly seen it

-M. Taggart

I can be simple if you let it be

Odd Walking Thoughts – Brothers

From one home, to another.  Light ears and Dark ears. Both fought. I’m supposed to what? Here we are- children. We’re looking at a fence, waiting for a cat. One has half an ear. A frog died in the make-shift swimming pool. That was nearly our first home. It’s hard to remember which home was our home. Yet, we both, are expected to produce exceptional happenings. Who’s to hold our fort? It doesn’t matter. I once fell from a tree. We’d built a fort with hammers and nails. I lay, asleep, and there he was, catching me while rocks waited below. Here, I’ll be, for him. Brothers.