When She Began to Mourn

July 28, 2014

woman waiting

He left her by the women’s room
down at the Southland Mall.
When she came out he wasn’t there.
She waited by an elevator to the second floor
away from lavatory smells
of paper…disinfectant…soap.
He wouldn’t stand there either.
He’d stray for new tobacco.

So she bought coffee black
to sip hot bitterness,
found a vacant bench,
waited on her island
with shoppers washing by
to a KISS current
surface just below…
a peak of shout…a screech of child;
and then her panic struck.
She treaded tears…
imagined quick alone
without him.

Sorry hon… saw this for you.
Hope you like the color.

She held his hand
and would not let it go.

Bonnie Marshall

Art by Richard Diebenkorn


cows girl

her skinny legs
tight straddled
the cow’s belly
filled with calf…
her nubbin breasts
tight pressed
against its neck
as cow grazed
stoic… to her length
and lightness on its back,
to her flicking of its ears,
her mimic grinding of
grass between her teeth
and hocking spit
that arched green froth
to dust before its hooves–
ignored her noisy sniff
of its sweaty hide…stoic
‘till girl pressed…barefoot
hard against a nine month’s
bulging in its side

girl tumbled laughing
spinning against
turning of the earth,
at ease and joyful
with her presence
in that place

Bonnie Marshall

Art by Robert Duncan

Obsessive Case

July 22, 2014

st jerome in his study

counts eighteen window panes
left to right…top to bottom
bottom top…again…again;
to chart his number thought;
sums four knives
three spoons, one fork
to individual drawers;
calculates the ceiling
of twelve-inch tiles
in multiples of ten
times twenty-two;
thinks a twelve-twelve mantra
to purge his tally spell
definitive…to plant
his sense of self to there.
foretells sine, cosine for
sweep of ocean waves that
tangent to a beach;
orients his charting for
a rising…waning…setting
yin moon…yang sun phasing;
twists cords to Celtic knots;
sculpts wood…all Mobius
to ground his intimation
of truth and beauty’s source
of balance in proportion
of exquisite simplicity
of eloquent equation
of profound implication
that one plus one is


Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by H. Steenwick
“St Jerome in His Study”

Soul Sift

July 18, 2014



My soul has barbs…
it does not glisten smooth
for it has threads…and latches
to my being hoop.
With no spider avarice to
spin nourishment from air,
it sieves existence from
all music passing by.

My soul is blind…
it reels invisible from
a time space spool.
Without sighting percept
it intuits its own is.

My soul is…mine.
It binds me into life
with intrinsic fusion
identical to fire.

Bonnie Marshall

Sculpture by Maud Cotter

Love Descants

July 14, 2014

flash flood

flash flood

there is heartbreak ache
in tears welled fresh
from thought somewhere
runoff from distant storms
in emotion mountains

they carve new span
through hidden caverns;
wash incremental steep
to eroding cliffs…
flash flood remorse
to swell with longing

Bonnie Marshall
Art by S. J. W. Grogan

Words for Snow

I love you.
No you don’t.
You mean affection,
or warm regard,
for love is unthinkable
with one single word
to sense the thought…
like…eternity and God.
Eskimos know life depends
on knowing snow drifting
from snow drift; falling
snow in storm…from slush.
So tell me love’s complexity
that I am in your life
more than anyone.

Bonnie Marshall
Art by Itaya


Young boy and young girl outdoors holding hands in a park

In Praise of Holding Hands

We sense intent
in a newborn’s grasp…
surprising strength…
instinctive…reaching out
for confirmation
of humanity.

So begin
synaptic pathways
for mindfulness of touch…
summoned remembrance
from deep realms of feeling…
lingering and sensate…
of those whose hands
we have truly held.

Bonnie Marshall



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