Thursday, December 27, 2012

The Day After Christmas

I spent half an hour in the garage this afternoon,
Breaking down boxes from yesterday's Christmas.
I remembered the joy of each unwrapping,
As corrugated cardboard collapsed and snapped in two.
My heart, unguarded after the high-spirited holiday,
Broke more easily than usual today.

Styrofoam planks cracked with a pop
That echoed like gunfire.
White pellets stuck to my clothes.

You carefully opened the door from the laundry,
And helped me fill plastic trash bags with debris.
As you tenderly brushed Styrofoam snowflakes
From my black jeans,
I knew I would be alright.

Then we swept up shards of cardboard
Until the floor was as clean
As the day we moved in.

Monday, December 24, 2012

What I Have Learned

Thanks to the
Rhythmic terrors,
Internal slant rhymes
And piercing metaphors
That bleed through your fingers
And onto the keyboard,
I have learned how to breathe.

You remind me to look up,
Astonished at the infinite blue,
And the sudden cumulus shapes
That silently watch me pray.

© Judith C Evans 2012

Friday, June 8, 2012


She reads poetry.
So well-rounded!
How nourishing for the soul it is,
To ponder those fine phrases...
And how clever she must be,
To understand such deep meaning.
It must be so stimulating to be her friend.

She memorizes poems.
How admirable!
She and some lucky fellow
Will have plenty to talk about at the dinner table.
And if they ever have children
(Do you think they ever will?)
They will learn to read at an early age.

She writes poetry.
Wait a minute!
How did she turn out to be so...well...
I just feel sorry for her poor husband.
How can she be a good wife,
With her head in the clouds 
And her nose in a book,
Writing all those poems?
She watches documentaries about artists in Paris
And leaves peeled potatoes on the kitchen counter.
Then she writes a poem about the time she forgot to finish cooking dinner.
I suppose we should be thankful that she never had children.

© Judith C Evans 2012

Shared with The Think Tank Thursday #100 at Poets United. Inspired by this quotation by Tim Burton: "One person's crazyiness is another person's reality."

Saturday, May 26, 2012


Late autumn sunset
cast shadows on a brick wall:
unexpected joy

© Judith C Evans 2012

  Written for Haiku Heights prompt #146 -- Joy.

Thursday, May 24, 2012

In Honor of a Young Girl

I absently sat on a bus stop bench,
As the San Antonio noonday sun
Baked streaks in my hair.

I gazed across the street and tried to guess
Where the old, wind-tossed newspaper would land next.
It had blown across the scorched parking lot, 
Beginning at the farthest end, in front of the garden center.
The yellowed, ripped edges of the crumpled newspaper
Fluttered like pretty ecru ruffles as the wind
Tossed it randomly
Across the searing pavement.

A whirlwind tore the front-page headlines in half.
The mangled first page of Section 2 landed at my feet.
I stared at the center of the faded page.
A black-and-white school portrait of a teenaged girl smiled back.
You could barely see a boy's class ring on a chain around her neck.
She was an honor student, the caption explained,
Just 16 the day she came home from school and died,
In what is known as an "honor killing."
She loved computer science and played the clarinet.
They found the knife weeks before they
Found the body.
Other school band members planned a concert
In her memory.

I leaned forward and reached for the dirty, dusty page,
Wanting to know more about this brief life,
As if my curiosity would honor her memory.
A sudden, hot gust lifted her face into the air
And out of sight.

© Judith C Evans 2012

Written for The Think Tank #98 at Poets United. This weeks prompt was "honor", and I wrote this poem in honor of those who have faced domestic violence.

Friday, January 20, 2012

January 20, 2012

Today the real me browsed in a second-hand book store, sipped on gourmet root beer, and found the perfect red- and blue- striped espadrilles in a magazine ad.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

January 17, 2012

For the first time this week, my husband smiles with his eyes. I will have to bake more sugar-free chocolate cupcakes.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

January 12, 2012

We took the wreath down from the front door and unwound the burgundy garland from the terrace railing, but the uneven stack of Christmas cards will remain on the living room bookcase.

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

January 10, 2012

Primary results from my home state of New Hampshire pour in over Texas Public Radio. Tomorrow, Granite State diners and shopping malls will echo, bereft of the incessant handshaking and forced smiles.

Monday, January 9, 2012

January 9, 2012

A brown catnip mouse, completely spent, lies next to our cat, who reluctantly nods off in my husband's favorite soft chair.

Friday, January 6, 2012

January 6, 2012

Cedar fever: everywhere I look, the headache follows.
Seated above my left eyebrow, it mocks my every attempt at writing.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

January 5, 2012

Ghost-white refrigerator, covered with yellowed newspaper clippings and souvenir magnets, hums monotonously as I lose the battle to stay awake and write one more article.

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

January 4, 2012

Our cat Lucky sleeps with one eye open under the cherry-wood bookcase, pretending not to notice as I bring fresh water.

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Words Surge

Three trivial lines,
all significant to me:
words surge and recede.

© Judith C Evans 2012

Written for Poets United Vice/Versa prompt #1: surge/recede, trivial/significant

January 3, 2012

As homemade chicken pot pie bubbles and bakes in our Texas kitchen,
visions of snow-crested New Hampshire afternoons waft from the oven vent.

Monday, January 2, 2012

January 2, 2012

New purple notebook from Christmas:
on the gold-highlighted cover,
a blue peacock fans his yellow and green tail
across lily blossoms and lace.
Inside, purple lines on crisp purple pages await fresh ink
and dog-eared wisdom.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

January 1, 2012

Last week's burgundy Christmas garland loosens its sparkling grip on the sun-drenched terrace railing.