bookshelves line the walls
she pushes her glasses up
and turns the page

snare drum cracks
the warm boom
of a bass drum

oboe plays A
the waves lick the shore
end of summer tradition

books askew
papers cover the desk
burning the midnight oil

rap bass pounds
the ceiling above me
power hour

food I'm greedy with
but with you?
I could spare a bite or two.

running to class
the train blocks me
late to class

a loving mother
chocolate chip cookies
for her little boy

twin beds pushed
together
3 blankets become 1

her braid catches
on her zipper
Monday

bride and bride
after many year of waiting
family rejoices

rings of water
on the table
after he leaves

hot dogs and brats
sizzle on the grill
speaking to my stomach

the yellow grass
you never bothered
to water

the puppy wags his tail
not knowing
his owner is no more

shifting shadows
whispers in the corner
alone with the moon

twin sized bed
room for only one
the empty space of another

holding up a frame
to the old farm house
snapshot

girls night out—
praying this time
I can keep down some measly saltines

the text messages I don't delete
to remind myself
I'm done

plastic bag
floating carelessly
in the tree

the red blanket
envelops her
a shiver

head pounding
lightning strikes
when you speak to me

the hallway is quiet
I breathe
easier

trying to hide
shaky hands—
this wasn't on the brochure

the laughter down the hall
is different now
I close my door

grandma's house
thin quilt
wooden bed frame

Little Eddie
wears that same holy shirt
Monday thru Friday

at the mall for more clothes
     I wiz     by a man
asking for pocket change

empty seat at the
spelling bee
melancholy

glasses stacked
under
a chopped tree

spring—
the blossom of
the pup

beside one Another
the bells ringing
denying who We are

and what can
       a broken tool
              mend?

rippling brook
lazy bluegill
suns amongst the rocks

the cliff, steep
the water, flat
he takes the leap

number two pencil
sharpened
pens only

sitting under the
sea of stars
her eyes

no school
bars loaded
labor day

laughing when we
walk under the sun
sharks circling

out of Inky black
a single star

boating with friends
too scared
to try new things

on the horizon
a lone sail boat
cuts through the low September sun

sunny day
I bend down
to tie my shoe

unsteady feet
           scale an
evergreen

tucked into blankets
sweating
but afraid of ghosts

sober as always
declining
yet another beer

lonely apartment
boil water
add ramen

four boys
one kitchen
cluttered sink

microwave pizza
even sober
a chore

early bird
night owl
friends in passing

I dance with
a brown hair belle
in three quarter time

empty cans on the floor
with a pounding head
I pick them up

hellos
how are yous
small town reunion

lights out gossip
late night
giggling

a drunk stumbles in
to give respect
to his dead brother

empty bottle on the table
a clenched fist
pushes it Away

I wake to urban sunrises
       of rush hour honking
sunsets: neon with pollution.

the paper bag hangs
on a hook
her bare apartment

building a wall
to keep out evil—
it's already here

weed stench
the sorority girl
honks with laughter

crumbling bricks
broken windows
school's out forever

making my bed
the sheets come off
starting over

goldfish swim
amongst plastic plants
exploring their tiny world

just one more
I say as I eat
the entire box

forgot a towel
the cold wind
freezes my hair

covey of quail
awoken from their slumber
scatter amid clouds of lead

blown kiss
from the car
she leaves again

finger pricks
a bead of blood
blackberry season

one last good weekend
out on the lake
ends Tuesday

he senses
the open flower
asks for her number

long days
the harvest scent
combine running lights

a rose
opening at dusk
a full moon rises

dirt and rocks
stuck to my arm
I rise pained

windows open
breeze flows in
the turn of season

dark blue sky
a pink earth
off to the edge