Popcorn

Tears

But you can’t see them.

Maybe you feel them, though

In my forced smile

In my eyes

Teacher to student, but you’ve never made it feel like that

You’ve always made us feel like equals

I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves. 

Sam and Willa lay on their backs in the overgrown grass of his yard, her describing the shape of the clouds for him to paint as a picture in his head. 

Hair tucked behind ears,

Cheeks pink and glowing,

Smiles illuminated by the sun,

Weeping willow branches cascading like poetry

Onto fluttered-closed eyelashes;