- Looking for Offense
- Foot in Mouth, In
My Wake
- It's the Packaging,
- Easy as Humble Pie
- Don't Turn your Back on an Egg (I did)
- February Expectations,Which Side of Sane?
- An Unconventional Soul,Angry Wind
- Flawlessly Flawed, And
I Alone am Left
- Thinking Spring

Looking for Offense
I think my feelings have been hurt,
poor, delicate feelings;
I went looking for offense
and found it.
Easy to find-- whether pickety white
or wiry barbed or
New England stony.
I'd hate to think there was
a nearby fence I couldn't find,
a fence I could not tend to.
And if there is not one nearby,
I'll go looking.
I always find what I look for
when I'm looking for a-fence.
lori fiechter
10-16-03

I've stepped on my tongue
again
after stepping on her toes.
Such clumsy feet
that trip and
stumble and
barricade the way.
And such a tongue
that ought to
slither back
into its cave.
lori fiechter
10-21-03

In My Wake
Broken vessels in my wake,
mended awkwardly.
Unscathed ahead,
fractured behind;
I wonder if the
vessels mind
my brazen plowing,
my
clumsy
mending?
I've not yet learned
what
"steer
clear" means,
nor "handle
these with care".
lori fiechter
10-21-03

It's the Packaging
I like the present, just
not the package.
Couldn't you wrap it
in something else?
I'm sure the gift is
lovely, delicious, fragrant
But I can't get past
the unattractive paper,
such unattractive paper.
I can never see past
the packaging.
lori fiechter
10-25-03

Easy as Humble Pie
It's easy to be humble
when you're face
down in the dirt;
shoelace-tripped,
rock-stumbled.
When you fall flat
and splat,
pride slips right
out of your fingers.
Ah, but it's harder to be
humble
When your head is not so low
when the blessings freely flow
(and you cannot see the Hand
that does the
pouring).
lori fiechter, 10-23-03

Raw egg rolling
with no wrapper,
just a fragile shell.
Tricksy egg,
curiously edgey,
impatient,
too ready to roll.
Solo plunge from
Humpty's countertop
without a net.
no egg on my face
but the carpet was not
plush enough
to break the fall.
A kitchen carpet abstract in
egg-shell white
and egg-yolk yellow
on smashing blue.
lori
fiechter
3-07-04

I awoke to find the thermometer at a surprising 35
degrees--above freezing, at last! I will not ask for more.
February expectations--keep them low.
Picture wind and ice and snow,
keep those expectations low.
How intolerable to eat porridge
when you ordered New York strip,
But it's not so bad to order mush
and pour some milk on it.
And if today the sun should shine
and nibble at the ice,
I will not look for crocuses;
(Not February crocuses!)
I did not expect a thaw today
and so that will suffice.
lori fiechter
2-06-04

The only
sane inmate
in
the asylum
seems
most insane of all.
But
it is hard to tell,
when
you don't fit in
Which
side of sane
you're
living in.
lori
fiechter
10-25-03

He just
keeps on bumping off the edges;
Almost
fitting in,
Nearly
fooling himself.
But he's
just a rubber mallet
who
thinks himself a file.
A
trendsetter with no followers,
over-eager,
trying too hard to please--
or be clever;
So
much to share, but no one to listen;
For
the razor-edged files
have
turned off their ears.
lori
fiechter
10-25-03

You keep pushing,
rolling trash cans,
shaking trees;
throwing tantrums--tossing sticks and
chasing leaves.
Such a temper, Master Wind;
Can't you try to count to ten?
Stop punching my soft pillow world
and hold your breath awhile--
go to your room;
stop trashing mine,
I do not like your style.
lori
fiechter
3-07-04

He thought that he was flawless
and all the world was flawed,
That he alone was normal
while all the world was odd.
And when his friends refused
to fit the mold that he had made
"They were not friends at all", he sniffed
and stiffly walked away.
lori fiechter
2-1-04
She thought the whole world happy
While she alone was un.
They all were entities
While she remained a non.
And everyone had a place to fit
While she alone was mis;
They were respected, satisfied
While she was simply dis.
lori fiechter
2-1-04

This icy road called winter must always
lead to spring.
I'm thinking spring to bear the winter,
Thinking green to bear the snow.
Just another month of sunsets,
Growing-ever-later sunsets
Until March begins to blow.
Soon the icy blasts will mellow
into April's earthy breeze;
I'm thinking spring to bear the winter
scraping past the pane of winter;
Thinking spring to bear the freeze.
lori fiechter
1-31-04
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