first date
what do I wear
what do I order

the first love
I still hold in my heart
the one i would break all the rules for

crickets chirp
from my phone
drifting into sleep

I feel his hands
slipping through mine,
I can’t look back

shuffling
through the mailbox
for that one giant envelope

4 am
lights flashing from the window
dead silence

lonely
watching the stars
in silence . . .

I see him
in class
my heart stops

in the garage
beneath piles of junk
a deflated basketball

holding on
afraid to let go
of his hand

wrinkled hands
the wake ends
          I have to let go

outside the bar
two old friends
ash cigarettes in the snow

so loud, so bright
I find peace
in the greenhouse

the backseat
a space shuttle to the moon
are we there yet?

last picked.
the big kids
don’t see me coming

one arm per child
a mother reads
bedtime stories

orange, pink, purple
it’s like He painted the sky
just for me

the rose bush
kissed me
with its thorns

ice cream
sticky and sweet
I’m lactose intolerant

running up the stairs
slammed door
I reverberate

losing sleep
I giggle on the carpet
fake tattoo

sacred water
washes over old sins
she is born anew

by half a step
she falls across the finish line
utter exhaustion

he kisses me
the grass
tickles the skin of my back

mosquito bites
itching.          the scent
of your cologne

falling asleep
on her warm lap
her nails through my hair

honeysuckle patches
in summer’s warmth
outline the path to grandmother’s

you enter
I blush
. . . you don't even notice me

hugging her mother’s legs
the wind blows
through the leaves

under the blanket
taking turns telling stories
about childhood

I stop in my tracks
don’t want to miss a moment
sunshine on his face

dressed to impress
interview
got my first job

we separate
I miss you . . . r
family the most

sunshine
a snowflake
kisses my eyelash

wedding photos
the groom’s mother
adjusts his bowtie

next to me
a couple making out . . .
          another drink

holding her necklace
a shell
of who she used to be

moonlight serenade
slow dancing
in the street

quick glance
across the bar
did they feel that too?

I turn the pillow
cold on my face
relief

heavy
the acceptance
letter sits

I’m known
to walk alone
for a reason

you can lead her to college
but you can’t
make her think

never motherless
sometimes
fatherless

long day
sigh . . .
I unbutton jeans

song from my childhood
do you still remember this?
she askes

on the life-stained sofa
a family meeting
my parents come out to me

Ben & Jerry
the best wingmen
when he doesn't call

don't forget the dishes
and the laundry
P. S. I love you

only 12
first Pads
am I old enough?

little girl!
she
watches me sleep

embracing lilacs
hold me
while I cry

door creaks
wind howls
I don’t care.

fraying blanket
I find myself
unraveling with it

hush in the audience
as the lights rise . . .
          candy wrapper

school bell
the preschooler makes sure
to leave no man behind

leaves crunch
your hand touches mine
tingles

duck down
duck up
did he see us?

noisy high school hallway
I quietly come out
to myself

he held me close
and I thought
I don't want this anymore

roof top
cloudy evening
we cry together

you forgot?
I drop the phone
and sink away

the house across the street
vacant
except the mailbox

torn and wrinkled
our poem
framed

bowling with the family
mom's shoes 
a little too slippery

the hammock
sways rhythmically
the beat of the wind

"R + J" in a heart
carved into the table
scribbled out

the lighthouse
seen through the storm
her mother’s smile

your name
carved into stone
can you hear me?

feet up
reading poetry
procrastinating

black tie event
another life
remembered . . .

sitting in a room
filled with books
nothing to read

a crackling fire
my date
with Jack Daniels

rain patters
on a tin roof
a blanket fort

wind blowing
feeling the weight
of my eyes

greeted at the door
old age
tail no longer wags

week by week
a new bed
to lay my head

the park bench
I tune everyone out
to think

a long drive
each building passes
through my window

amongst the chaos
time stands still . . .
on that hospital floor

you wrap me
in the word
special

the street lights
out
time to be home

dressed in battle attire
we assume position
table for two?

another delivery
a package without a return address
no way back home

I blink
he left
life in shambles

backroads
listening to music
alone . . .

familiar arms
they fit
no map necessary

night sky
we play connect the dots

the sun rising through the window
we quickly rush
to the pier

spinning out of control,
no one on it
notices

unconditional love
I’ll never forget
thanks mom.

he holds her in his arms
showing her the world
that she would grow up in

packing away old clothes
into boxes and tubs
a new life

I think of the sun
who gets to see you
every day

your lips
made me forget
how to speak

blue spinning lights
I cry in my
mothers arms

somewhere along the way
I lost the love
for myself

wheel turning:
I teach myself
how to ride

we laugh.
the moonlight
paints your face

he holds my hand
asks a question
would you dance with me?

high school
surrounded by nuns
oh shit! I can’t go any where

February stretches on
homesick
I want to breathe again

the bags under my eyes
are designer

I miss you
daily phone calls
to grandma's house

tv static
I recline the chair
legs up

couples pass
arm in arm
I cross mine . . . alone

staring in the mirror
were those wrinkles there
yesterday?

Halloween night.
ding dong ditching
the neighbors

spring cleaning
a sweater from him
out with the trash

newlywed couple
slow dance
wine stain on her dress

quiet bookstore
I pull out one
          the rest
                     topple
                             over