I have been writing a good bit of poetry and fiction over the past 4 years that I’ve reserved for conventional publication. I’ve finally reached a point where I feel the desire to share some of it with you who read my work and respond so graciously. These pieces do not directly address topics of faith and mental illness, but they are examples of how one person of faith who struggles with mental illness finds a measure of healing in the written word.
I wrote the core of this poem the day I received word that my ex-wife had accepted the terms of our divorce. It also happened to be my birthday.
I drive through my hometown;
Nothing is the same.
Heinz’s Grocery is gone;
Bud’s Bait Shop is boarded up;
The school has been torn down.
My lawyer calls;
Everything is settled.
Joint custody,
Weekly visits,
Division of assets.
A storm brewed
On our wedding day.
We laughed carrying in
Presents one by one
In the rain.
There is now an apple orchard outside
My hometown
I buy a strawberry rhubarb pie and
Watch the flies buzzing
Around the port-a-let.
Now and then,
It takes a shitload of strawberries
To sweeten the tartness of rhubarb.
