An Ode to Hugs

A mother’s arms,

The first to hold.

A teddy bear,

Chasing away monsters.

A dog on its hind legs,

Paws wet on shoulders.

A heavy blanket,

When outside, thunder roars.

A hunched palm,

Under the midnight sky.

A cup of tea,

With an old confidante.

A lover’s warmth,

Full of promise.

A child on your lap,

Pudgy arms around your neck.

The final embrace,

To the grave.

The Red Balloon

So much depends upon

staunching the flow

from the cut

in my thumb

after the palette knife slipped

staining the painting

crimson

like the red balloon

against the setting sun

when the curly-haired child

ran for ice-cream

only to stop

and look up

to see her childhood

floating away.