Category: Family
-
Party favors
She was tempted to kiss a frog French kiss an enchanted prince Popped a breath mint in her mouth Thought of everything that long tongue might do Closed her eyes, leaned in When the thought of all the slimy things His tongue had tasted Made her gag She opened her eyes Put on her coat…
-
Mid-November green
white blooms leaves like small hands mid-November green if mom was a southern girl she would have planted one in our yard 11-9-21
-
Still running
After dark you walk in the park with Memories of walking to the store as kid Because you didn’t want to get caught And pay a toll to older boys, you’d run home If your father found out you ran He’d have sent you back to fight A deer snorts, jumps high and runs if…
-
Memory worm, ear infection
Hat and gloves kinda weather Stand at kitchen door Hot coffee in hand Chill wind in your face And mom in your ear “Shut the damn door! You weren’t born in a stable! Jesus was!” 11-3-21
-
Manufacturer’s warranty
You wake in the middle of the night stare into the bathroom mirror resisting the urge to call your mom and tell her to tell dad That you are okay and following doctors orders Because the manufacturer’s warranty they purchased still has thirty years before expiration and you will get through this little matter of…
-
seventeen syllables of potentiality
within one acorn forests patiently await with bushels of nuts 10-12-21
-
Covid dream poem
dark obsidian night of being sent to your room for something your emotions have no control over it’s not your fault or anyone else’s it just is to get away you climb a sugar maple in your neighbor’s yard because if you climb your mother’s trees she’ll use the belt to protect her trees from…
-
haiku to a wildflower
be kind to yourself garden flowers’ ancestors mother curses as weeds 8-31-21
-
Swimming in third person
Coming out of COVID Albert realized He exists outside of his relationships Tries to reintegrate Beyond the confines of his mind Wonders why or if it matters Memories of friendships On an ascent path Rise, break cerebral fluid’s surface Like the taste of cinnamon and icing In the bottom of a bowl His mother once…
My husband's poetry 