comfort in her presence
safer in her bed
when the thunder roars

teaching me to bake
measure carefully
sweet smells

first time kayaking
on sugar creek
relaxing day

our glasses are full of amber
as our blue flames
hit the rocks

Kneeling by Grandma’s bedside
Erratic breathing
time stops and begins again

Running around in the woods
Grandmother points out an orange leaf
A green dragonfly darts 

squirming in my hard desk 
daydreaming
faint sounds of chattering 

Boy in the elevator
my favorite guitar
trusting the lesson of letting go

lights up
stomach hurts
it begins

hot and sweaty soup kitchen
life’s most rundown
hurriedly collect their warmth
from my small and naïve hands

the early morning rises
my mirror reflects
the impact of the night before

quick to release
fearing they will
lose their family