putting my face
in my hands
to hide the tears

on the walls
my shadow dances
by candlelight

first snowfall
of the season
i close the drapes

Christmas at grandma's
turkey roasting
I play Santa

study room silence
then a train
ah,     there you are Millikin

muttering
in front of the class
a new teacher

porcelain skin
in a tiny bonnet
the newest family member

Christmas music
good will to
men

two bags of cookies
giving thanks in
October

he left his brothers
to stand
alone

Resnet down again
I play the
dinosaur game

if my blood were made
of chocolate
would you take a sip?

shoes laced
headgear . . . strapped
hands . . . slapped

shoes hung up
over a power line
Will I jump higher?

soft red blanket
soft gray sheets
Heaven on Earth

blue blood seeps
from the locker room
and the sky

rock and roll
keeping us afloat tonight
sugar

darkness of orchestra
a coughing fit turns
contagious

mold grows thick
on yesterday's bread
a bold new flavor

sidewalk closer
than it should be
welcome to my home

homecoming weekend
henna salon
booked all day

in the grey sky
I find
a dragon

paper towel roll
I color it gray
for my son, the elephant

blinding sun
I look away
to thunderclouds

an old scar
bringing back
good memories

arm shaking
difficult to lift the cup
good workout

opening the blinds
for a fantastic view
that brick wall

beers with my buddies
all happy
to be home again

boots and black
eyes lifted
studying horizons

noon shower
hair soft
skin proud

double helix
cloud twisting
Man in the Moon after all

her eyes close
for just one minute
           three hours later

the workers
yelling across the room
her order

Grandma's cookies
with
a tall glass of milk

long weekend
well spent
doing nothing

bonfire
lights up the
small town sky

taking off the mask
lying underneath
another mask

forgetting my train of thought
when he catches
my eye

tending her mother's garden
she pricks her finger
on the rose stem

graveyard
beetles
her windowsill

sliced sandbag
still steadying
the fence

empty laundry room
finally noticing
the scent of your detergent

his honeyed words
stuck to my skin
hours of scrubbing

torn photo
she tapes it back
together

cold bottle
I cup my hands
to warm it

dewy evening
waterfall on bricks
for a while longer

pocket change
given enough time
warms my hands

tightrope teetering
Hope they forgot
the net

traveling carnival
     like a polaroid
     in the morning mist

a dragon's guise
my tiny soul
now fired up

running uphill:
fall break
just around the corner

old bean bag chair
almost flat
in the dorm room

long sidewalk
wondering
when i should wave

black Friday
you wait outside stores
I, the soup kitchen

door by door
I gather a handful
of rejections

a cold north wind
kissing her long enough
not long enough

lost at night
glimmering moon
guiding       me home

raindrops
pound the sidewalk
a cricket hops off of the concrete

laying on the pavement
struggling to breathe
how beautiful the night sky

as the leaves fall
picket signs and protestors
grieving

car ride
from the airport . . .
running out of things to say

train passing
a vase
vibrates off the table

heavy storm. . .
ball of yarn
wound too tight

snow refuses to fall
the moon makes
a face

her glasses
refracting the pain from her eyes
she sings

scars from the hike
a proud accessory

borrowed book
imagining you
reading these words

Friday night
I boil
my last pack of ramen

shimmering
on her collarbone
diamonds

the pages have yellowed
with time
my favorite book

rocky bluffs
line the freeway
on each side

did you buy chocolate
for both
of your girlfriends?

new moon
only light
burning between fingers

from under the swell
the sun and I
swim to each other

the professor rattles off
the next definition—
still stuck on the last

winter night
he touches my arm
goosebumps

no moon here
only the street lights
to guide my way

a knock on the door
she quickly turns off
her flashlight

finding her old calendar
old appointments
feel like a clue

imagining myself
pulling the fire alarm
a hero

symmetrical buildings
trapped through
hot air

picking at my skin
to remind myself
I can feel

wind chill
spider swaddled
in its web

the keys
sway with the car—
the driver's nametag