Posts
-
New Years 2025
Footprints of tourists painting the sand,
The cries of the ocean berating the land.
Chappell Roan and milestones,
Informing the world we aren’t fighting alone.
Ten teenagers talking til the old year gives way,
-
Storm Window (Election night) — Nov. 5
The screen in my window’s still down —
no wonder it’s so cold up here.
You’d think I’d know better, a house this old, this time of year.
And here I thought I shivered for the stress,
-
Little Things
It’s getting hard to tell apart
My head from hell,
My melting heart:
A puddle on my driveway,
A stain upon my shirt.
Please just run away —
I don’t want you getting hurt.
-
My Faith
I’ve never been religious much —
My Faith is in the trees.
The sort of Lord I worship flies among the Bumblebees.
And my idea of Heaven is buried ‘neath Her leaves —
-
Slaughter Day — Nov. 6
I didn’t get out of bed this morning for twenty minutes
Lying in the dark in hopeful ignorance
Then I see my mother in the hall and I’m six years old again —
She has bad news —
-
A Bridge
I think I live upon a bridge
I’m too afraid to cross.
I’ve set up camp for the time being
(Now so much time’s been lost.)
The water’s too far down to drink
And the fish are out of reach.
Loves
-
on knowing people whose first language is not this one
speaking to people with honey-thick & beautiful accents brings a whole new meaning to hanging on your every word
-
I Just Want Something I Don't Want
There's a rope swing
all the way back in the woods.
I forgot it was there.
I took you there,
do you remember?
Yesterday we read quotes my mother kept from when my sister and I were little.
-
A Hug of People
We didn't know the guy
in the truck
who's that guy?
my sister asked,
and I wondered if city people
expected to know everyone
they saw around town.
-
Dear Mother
Dear Mother,
I have missed you these past few months.
Where did you go?
I see you standing there, torch held high, yet you do not answer my calls.
-
Enough to Heal, Not Enough to Care
They dine upon marble platters, their feet draped in velvet thread,
While we dwell in the slums, substituting bread with insects instead.
They laugh over champagne, heels clacking on polished stone,
-
Summer
the air tastes like honey and promise
sticky with the scent of blooming jasmine
and freshly cut grass that crunches beneath bare feet
the sky drips blue
stretching wider every afternoon