Remembering Helm

When I first posted this…….over a year ago…I had lost a dear friend to cancer…not the first. And one of the few people who read it and immediately understood what I was saying was Helm. He commented that it reminded him of a friend who faced her crisis with humor. Now that we have lost Helm, I am often reminded of his wiry humor and brilliant talent. I miss him.


Making War

Gremlins play hockey here at night
on knife blade skates sharp and bright
Pucks crisscross the cold tile floor,
crash against the closet door

Charging on from room to room,
they fire off lightning shots of doom,
gambol closer to the goal 
and spit out laughter coarse and bold

Beware- 

a hoarse and threatening voice
demands (as if I had a choice)

Beware yourself-

I answer back
(with courage that they know I lack)

I’ve bubbles here, robust and thick
enough to break a hockey stick
I puff them out with my short breath
These quivering rainbow balls of death

I hear a snort, a chortling yelp 
then realize that it’s myself
Sitting upright in the bed,
a warrior’s scarf around my head 

They still play hockey in the dark
Still cavort and shout and bark
I chase them back with bubbles fat
Sometimes I wield a nerf foam bat

The score gapes wider than before
But I’ll not be frightened anymore