the ball changes hands
everyone sprints
the other way

eight people today
told me we need to catch up
overwhelmed

friends back home
don't understand
you are my home now

excuse me, excuse me
ballet starts in five minutes
out of my way

old tights
dirty ballet slippers
straight back, princess

three best friends
one room
what is bedtime?

a house of women
welcoming me
i feel safe

fog is a blanket
a strange bird
sings a lullaby

bright star
just now visible
it's moving

from my new bed
i watch the train pass
for the graffiti

new apartment
new roommates
broken floorboards

2 years of love
equal 0
restart button

a coach
planning at a desk
still full of hope

rainy day
we say bye
to our childhood

the summer cools
into autumn air
and i have to leave you

boxes packed
the girl giddy
as daddy lets go

an empty suitcase
soon to be filled
but with what

tent flaps zip open
bears give us no trouble
breakfast grows wild here

pack up
drive on
you’ll make new friends

they said too little
or maybe too much
two houses now

purple sky
one last night
to read on the back porch

a tetris puzzle
in the pick-up truck
box on box on box

a golden key
turns in the lock
welcome home

the sun sets
too quickly
children hurry home

freedom was abundant
all at once
blue hour fades to dusk

firefly lightning
they begin
to retire

faded photo
under brass thumbtacks
you find your new home

not ready,
no plan,
I start running anyway.

fire crackles and pops
the last s'more roasting
out of wood

bed of quiet moss
arrow points the way
sleep is welcome

phone call every night
I still sometimes forget love
who are You, again?

the red planet
who do you say
that I am?

a deep breath in
followed by a splash
no more air

chalk dust
from the blackboard
oh, the anticipation

lemmas and theorems
transcend this morning dew
ah, abstractions!

heavy eyelids
tired bones, but
I tread to class

an idle swing
rocks back and forth
dusk falls

lightning bugs fill
the air
a door slams shut

the clouds part
can you hear
the earth humming

the bed sheets
follow me
like a mobile home

getting back
to the bubble
about to pop

mom and dad
seated at the table
too much food

i lay under the oak
a leaf
falls to meet me

sitting on my balcony
students pass
destination unknown

his hair grew with time
his smile
stayed the same

dominoes
that old best friend
who takes my money

coffee
poured in
a gas tank

no more sleeping in
no more late nights
time for school

the warm tea
sits for so long
eventually cold and purposeless

eighteen candles
light up the dark
no longer a child

stomping feet
of frazzled dancers
the wooden floor

heavy backpack
the eyelids look droopy
need coffee

keys clink in my hand
i look back to the porch
as she waves goodbye

the long road winds
around
my heart

it's been months
let's grab some coffee
good to see you

daisies blossom
my heart
is a garden

the stars shine 
brighter
when alone

slowly burning embers
the beer grows warm
night gets older

footsteps on
concrete sidewalks
all on our way

maybe next weekend
maybe soon
I will see you

the midnight moon
speaks to me saying
you will be fine

fairy tale spins hair of gold
I thought I'd never touch . . .
but here you are next to me

the mountains
push me closer
to my beginnings

one touch
one look
a new beginning

lights slowly fade
your eyes
shine like the stars

August heat
on the black pavement
one-way trip

the kids laughing
sunlight on the lagoon
only in summer

mother on speed dial
like google
more love results

old moon
I know you shine on his face.
Keep him safe.

laughing and talking
silence
they are all gone

knees touch
the world turns
upside down

I hold onto
her hand
the earth's axis shifts

recovering anorexic
scales can't measure
the years lost

one leg and the other
the space in between
breakfast and dinner

good morning
mother said
with love

massive caterpillar
eager to cocoon
spider's dinner

the sweltering heat
in the ditch
I dug a grave not my own

I used the body
further north
I used the mind

freight train
on the other side
a new life

Saturday brunch
a plastic bag tunnels
through the air

the sky turns
blue
and she turns too

sidewalk chalk
running down
into the grass

the sun sets
on summer rising
to fall

full of heartache
she says goodbye
to her one true love

fishnets ripped
jazz in the air
red velvet curtains

the queen is weak
the throne is empty
and I shall claim it

train whizzing on the tracks
I wait
to be on the other side

spanx, my dear old friend
suffocating me
mirrors do not lie

growling stomach
chicken or pasta?
a fatigued cook's dilemma

summer heat
we swim together
while we are here

this year
I moved
without my mother

the sun setting
earlier each day
the onset of my darkness

hover fly
takes a licking
to me