Beautiful Bittersweet Life Poems

Exploring the world of life and grief through poetry.

Category: Ordinary Moments

  • Memories of Mom’s Red Lipstick

    Memories of Mom’s Red Lipstick

    When I look in the mirror, and uncap the lipstick,
    carefully applying the bright red to my lips,
    I picture my mother looking back at me.
    She was not one to fuss with makeup,
    but always applied her lipstick with care.
    Even as she faded with age, her lips blazed.
    And I, who always wore muted colored gloss if anything,
    now boldly wear true red in honor of my mother,
    shining my light for the world to see.

  • A Garden Meditation

    A Garden Meditation

    Walking along the garden path,
    wrapped in the warm spring breeze
    and anointed by the sweet nectar
    of flowers that are on display
    with their dazzling colors
    begging me to draw nearer
    as the bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds
    feast on the seasonal harvest.
    The birds, often hidden from view,
    rejoice in song from bushes, trees, and cacti,
    calling out to each other,
    as they embrace the warmth of the sun
    and the mating rituals of spring.
    I breathe deeply all the gifts
    that have been given to me
    on this perfect day.
    Not clutching the joy that I have received,
    but treasuring this present moment of being alive.

  • Extraordinary Power of Everyday Moments

    Extraordinary Power of Everyday Moments

    For Mike

    Because love is about the small everyday moments that we share,
    the pain of your absence was especially severe in
    the early minutes, hours, days, months and years after you died.
    The song you wrote that first captured my heart.
    How I fit so neatly into your embrace,
    especially in the mornings when we met in the kitchen for breakfast.
    The way that you shaved my legs when my pregnant
    belly made that task an impossibility.
    Your words of encouragement when I’d try something new,
    believing in me when I didn’t have faith in myself.
    How we were partners in running the house,
    each bringing our special talents so no one carried all the weight.
    You were my companion in parenting our kids,
    never shying away from dirty diapers or vomiting children.
    Even wringing out the cloth diapers that had been soaking
    in bleach before putting them in the wash.
    Being my person to run things by, even if I knew what I wanted to do.
    It was nice not to have to make every decision alone.
    The way that only you could wash the laundry,
    so that the clothes felt just right.
    Going to concerts together.
    Quiet evenings at home watching our favorite shows.
    The sense of humor and inside jokes we shared.
    The list goes on of these extraordinary ordinary moments
    that I miss so much about you.