Tuesday, November 7, 2017

And We All Fall Down

And we all fall down
    Our pockets full of troubles
Dreams burnt to ashes
When all we really want is to be free again like children

Time makes our days turn into months
And our months into years
    Taking us away from hours spent
    Playing in the sunshine
        Dancing in the grass until

We all fall down
Scrape our knees
    Bruise our elbows
Only now we have to
     Dust off our own pants
Fix our own bike chain
    And find a way to dry our tears

The nursery rhymes have faded
      Only echos now
Happy memories that wilt our hearts
       Like dying posies

Friday, October 20, 2017


As my words
Like the glaze on a day-old donut
Stale, yet still just good enough to eat

As my words
Pile up
Like a 13 car accident on the highway
Horrific, yet glad it is not in your lane

As my words
Like the autumn leaves late in October
Beautiful, yet crushed underneath your sole

As my words
Fade away
Like the tingle of a first kiss
Intense, yet not ready to fully commit

As my words
Fill in
Like a coffee in the morning cup
Fresh, yet sipped with groggy eyes

As my words
Like a butterfly in the summer
free, yet already starting to die

Blue Butterfly

Monday, August 14, 2017

The Point of Now

Count the ways
    to a single point
More than South
    North and East
A 360 degree map
    a point
        from A to B
        but to C and Z, also
    there is a time
    in fact, it is now
    even tomorrow
This point is accessible
Even for those
    who believe they are lost

Monday, July 31, 2017

If I had the Words

If I had the words
    I would be able to tell you
    that the way you turn your head
        when you laugh
        is the definition of Joy

If I had the words
    I would be able to describe
    how the curve of your hip
        sharp against the night
        is the line of Desire

If I had the words
    I would be able to express
    how holding my hand
        to walk into a store
        is the moment of Love

If I had the words
    I would be able to write
    how your nicknames
        spoken by family
        is the song of Motherhood

If I was a better poet
    or skilled wordsmith
    or even half a Romeo
        I would have the words
        to move your spirit

But all I have are these words

I love you, always

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

After the Storm

sidewalk with puddleThe clouds have receded
The concrete grey and puddled
A fresh aroma of dirt and blossoms
The sun now hot on damp skin

The fears have receded
Windows still un-cracked
The flags sagging against the pole
The sun now melting the hail

The hours have receded
Children are swinging
Mom has yelled that dinner is ready
The sun now fading below the horizon

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Fade to Nowhere

I’ll just fade into nowhere
my past like a flare into the night
I don't dare
because of the fear I feel
that no one saw
the brief burst of color
in a night sky filled with satellites
broadcasting another game
another 80’s movie
or rerunning a game show

I’ll just fade into nowhere
this moment like a flare into the sky
Stranded on an island
searching for a rescue unit
in an endless blue of
ocean and sky
not a cloud to be seen
or rain to come still
my thirst for something
more than all this space

I’ll just fade into nowhere
my future like a flare that won’t ignite
The wick wet from
tears I’ve tried to
dry with your love letters
and mail from the strangers
who seem to know
nothing of me
but want everything
I’ve built this life with

I’ll just fade into nowhere
I’ll just fade


I’ll just fade into nowhere

Monday, April 10, 2017

House to Home

There is a blue hand towel
on the floor below the right corner of the dishwasher
It leaks sometimes
I don't know why
The front door is scuffed with colors
    from the different door decorations
There are socks
in crumbled balls on the living room floor
Crumbs under the table
Toothpaste on the bathroom mirror
This is a house
        With a yard that has a few dandelions
           Nicks on the wall
And the roof has been replaced

But this is also a home
Filled with bubble baths
Family dinners
And groans when mom says it is time to clean the rooms
Pictures hang on the wall
capturing moments of joy
The DVD player has the girls’ favorite movie
The radio the boys’ favorite station
The pantry
filled with cereal and Pop-Tarts
three flavors of chips
and boxes of blueberry muffin mix
The hour is late
Time for bed
Stories and goodnights fill
the hallways
As this house rest from being a home