Marsha was sweet and venomous, generous, clever, and jaw-droppingly profane. In the few years that I knew her, I watched her sever relationships with unforgivably cruel words. Even so, many people who had suffered her vitriol did stick by her. Being friends with Marsha was like whitewater rafting or some other exhilarating, dangerous ride. A treat for thrill seekers.
And today I was pruning outside. I will never do yardwork without thinking of Marsha and here's why:
Four Traditional Haiku
late morning. Made
a pitcher of iced herb
tea. Now to dig holes for new shrubs
rests on lawn chair.
Why can't that fucking dog
learn to use a shovel? He knows
Why can't that old
lazy dog drive up to
the hardware store and buy me a
costs me huge bucks.
He sighs in the warm sun.
So why can't I do that while he
Later she explained that she knew the form she used was cinquain and so should anyone else who went to junior high school. A beautiful person, Marsha was. I'm glad we met.