piles

piles here and there

wrapping paper, bows, presents

clothes i hope to take on our trip

in early January

lists of errands to be done

that i seldom remember

to consult before i leave the house

but the chaos is familiar

even somewhat comforting

if i live to be 111, i may

just get it all done

but probably not

organization

(a dream and someday hope)

organized is not a word i know

a great deal about except as

a hope for the future

yet, slowly, so slowly, i begin

to see small areas of counter-top

and book shelf that remind me

that those surfaces were there

before i piled them high

with files and books and promises

to myself to soon get organized

rage of the mentally ill

rage of the mentally ill

beyond sane comprehension

perhaps a measure of their pain

at a world chaotic, without haven

unloving, often vicious

even toward those who would love

if they could reach them