a hidden classroom
anxious pencils tapping
nine-thirty

driving alone
the radio
must be loud

empty boxes
quiet music
free but alone

out of the water
a soft breeze
goosebumps

lips so soft
I take off
into Heaven

big red onesie
back flap
much appreciated

he sets down his crutches
and nudges
the soccer ball

wind bites
he holds the door for me
twice

snowman
full of leaves
no face—just arms

snowball fight
first arcs high . . .
second nails face

at the gas station
chin tucked to my chest
Hurry up!

strong winds on a
january morning—
no scarf

improvised song
distracts me as I walk
to my warm dorm

an unwashed t-shirt
just to smell him
one last time

basement shower
trying to shave
goosebumps

stubble on his face
scratches on her lips
love in the moonlight

brand new backpack
shiny shoes
a new beginning

his blue eyes
lock onto mine—
a chill rushes over

winter coat
I open the door
and catch my breath

Sunday morning
her white hair gone
in a snowy gust

outdoor hot tub
snowflakes melting
before reaching the water

leaving . . .
she will always be
my home

icicles hang above
the river stopped
flowing

blues brothers
anything but blue
move to start new

a white blanket
tucks me in
for a long winter nap

six blankets high
two pairs of socks
still cold

first snow without glasses
she lifts her head
tasting a snowflake

grasping
stiff fingers fighting
snowballs flying

lips, purple cold
softly say
warm words

old adage
cold hands warm heart
sometimes I wonder

under the blanket
their cold toes find
each other

escape the cold
by getting into the car
car is cold

warm shower
turns icy
mom's doing dishes

it reads 103 degrees
then why am I
so cold?

the Christmas party
guests open the door
bare shoulders and goosebumps

snowman
he has a best friend
again