laying in bed
hand-in-hand
rainy summer night

climbing out of bed
still tired
he continues to snore

early morning
sitting in the tree stand . . .
gunshots

the Star Spangled Banner
fifteen pounds of hamburger
taco seasoning

cookout with
friends and family
fireworks

hot concrete on my feet
twirling my whistle
eyes on the water

balloons floating through the air
one candle
stands alone

in my mind—
my friends’ divorce
becomes my own

closest friend
seeing my life
through melting snowflakes

a dark country road
on a hot humid night
you kiss my lips

first day of freedom
in my new apartment
no toilet paper

wearing make-up
with my swimming suit
for him

feet in the sand
the Italian stranger
needs a light

at a restaurant
she enters with someone new
check please

just woke up
made too much coffee
reminding me I’m alone

Grandma's empty room
navy blue dress
hangs in the closet

curtains blowing
in the breeze
unknown future

Sunday evening dinner
we gather around the table
to give thanks

waking up
through the night
a new puppy

scrubbing dishes
next to whining sisters
mom laughs

lightening lights
the entire night sky
a child cries mommy

the sun sets
a dog sits
begging at the back door

television news
of a wreck on my road
my father calls

bubble bath
I reflect
on my day

carnival rides
the children are laughing
eating cotton candy

the cicada sings
and school begins
the summer ends

looking into the mirror
the picture stays same
. . . no answers are given

she walks with me
to grandpa’s grave
all she knows is his name

on one knee
he proposes by the Christmas tree
. . . yes

row of cedars
to the camp sanctuary
water balloons!