creaking door
to the cellar
yells of warning

white socks shuffle—
camel's feet
beneath her kimono

walking to dinner
we talk
budding cherry blossoms

he said my eyes
had a sort of sparkle to 'em;
yeah yeah sure sure

quiet nighttime air
accompanied by bright stars
owl eyes

in the toddler's room
he shows me what he made
poop

child's white dress
starched and ironed
first communion

oven's heat
pie, with apples
from the neighbor's tree

lemonade stand
you were always
my best customer

pulling my hair back
deep breath
the storm has passed

picking daisies
the summer sky matches
her eyes

muffled whimpering sounds
from down the stairs . . .
only the dogs

to be a star
in the dark night sky
all eventually fade

I write you
my every thought
princess pen

we line up
ready to race
the storm

one path to the left
one path to the right
I step into the brush between

setting sun
I stop
to watch it disappear

the tug
of my first catch
can you eat seaweed?

too sleepy to care
his large, hobbit feet
caress my toes

eight feet tall
mama bear
plays hide and seek

dusting off the cleats
it was time to return
the prodigal son

my line
falls into the murky water
ripples

you had me
at let's get
Taco Bell

stardust on her cheek
glittering—
club lights dim

back of the fridge
my rose corsage
crumbles

hospital band on her wrist
she holds on
as long as she can

headlights
through the trees
mom's back

cookie crumbs
on footie pajamas
—college

the pristine lake
reflecting the mountain
cannonball

tang of sangria
tiptoeing
up the stairs

ghost town
the boys are going
to the 'ship

swollen belly
my thin fingers
soothing the ache

the sixth dress
still
not pretty enough

stolen kiss
on the hotel porch
red geraniums

never-ending work
he does his best
to keep me on track

picking her up
in dad's red 'vette
moon waxes

swallowing my pride
I let him
pay for dinner

lost boys
flooding
my voicemail

daughter went to prom
she can now
rest in peace

my son's giggle
when I tell him
he, we, are made of stardust

knowing the problem
does not mean I can fix it
snow falls in the spring

first year almost over
only 1 . . .
. . . or 2 regrets

grandpa's funeral
I know him more
now than ever

my mistake
overlooking
yours

x-ray vision!
bosoms
around a crucifix

stuffing her bra
like it's thanksgiving day . . .
lopsided

melted candy bar
buried deep in the bottom
of the pencil case

paying for college now
mom asks
if we can do white elephant

swimsuit bottoms
as underwear:
laundry day

dinner
motherly glare
he surrenders and accepts
the peas

a bathmat, two rugs
and an old home plate—
our field of dreams

hospital bed
beep . . . beep . . .
beep . . .         .

seeing the sun
in my hair
. . . i might be pretty

homeless man
his dog
blissfully unaware

pebbles on the window
romeo
or peter pan?

the moon sits in the dark,
unaware of its gravity—
I call my mom

walking down the aisle
I feel him by my side
just like he promised

forehead kiss
lifts her up
from her toes

a quick kiss
but first, a look
to see if they are watching

hushed voices
discuss divorce
the first day of spring

waiting for a taxi
the heat
from your body keeps me warm

hand over heart
one child forgets the words
to infinity and beyond

thick, calloused hands—
holding them
i grow envious

nine hundred friends, yet
not one for me to talk to
rethinking friendship

interstate motel
stench of the sins
committed before us

Grandpa's backyard
pinching
dragon flowers

birthday cake for mom
I wear
her checkered apron

cold rain drops
hitting my face
tell me it's real

only four tickets
I make the cut
over his grandma

after practice
a watchful eye
as he limps

standing in line
to see you
funeral home

the plane takes off
my heart
flying first class

Fall Festival
I am Colonel
of the Corn Maze

end of the verse
the banjo and fiddle
take over

becoming a woman
in math class
my uterus cringes with me

gangster bunny:
the newest face
of hippity hop

the pacific ocean
a small white boat
is my new home

she wakes up
and checks her phone . . .
a text from him

he opens the window—
stumbling
i listen to the birds

your laughter
on our family videos
haunts me. still.

it pays to have
connections
the roof of Shilling

flower petals wilt
I wait
for your response

steak n shake date
I tell my best friend
how much I miss Him

feverish slumber
the child reaches
for the old stuffed bear

faking it
because they love him
more than I do

autumn storm
dancing for no reason
I trust you

Sunday lunch
we talk about Big Bang Theory
with the pastor

photographer asks me
to model work
that isn't mine

lost in the woods
metaphorically
I'm finding myself

open door
the aroma of food . . .
the kids come running

to be ordinary
deep breath and closed eyes
I let out a sigh

lanterns hang
from low branches
first day of summer

you just keep
showing up in my life;
spring showers

broken puzzle pieces
we try to match
our torn edges

bedtime
son's half-asleep request
another story about mom

under the bleachers
she hides her tears
as he lets go

my biggest fear:
he comes back
different

waiting to bat
she braids
a clover chain

my brother's status
“in a relationship”
April fools