single mom's Halloween,
with her little
Superman

apple bobbing
a little witch
loses her nose

mysterious clown
her father removes
the mask

middle-aged mother
in suggestive costume
husband’s choice

top quarter champion

top half champion

bottom quarter champion

creating costumes
with boos and friends
on Halloween

homework in my lap
my Halloween costume—
a student

finally bestowed a knife—
my jack-o-lantern’s
pink-stained mouth

IV drip
a taste of blood
or Hawaiian Punch

top half champion

champion

bottom half champion

her hands shiver
as she attempts to sign
“Hello”

squeezing hands
on a midnight walk
through the graveyard

gray cornfield
under the dead stalks
a child’s bones

autumn chill
I drive past
my old stalker

top quarter champion

bottom half champion

bottom quarter champion

swivel chair and a dresser
she talks to mother
under the pale moon

off the beaten path,
orange hooded jacket
running for you . . .

my footrest;
my only support
on this Saturday night

with no one around
only one friend
facebook

first day teaching—
oh, you haven’t seen
the playground

burning light
she slips off
her ring

white feathers
your eyelashes catching
snowflakes

yellow moon
letting myself reread
her suicide note

turning in the first tax form
without
my father's stamps

old family photo
on the back
a name scratched out

Dad’s old rowboat
sun warmed planks and limbs
bare as the wind

first name basis
at the emergency vet clinic
he got into the candy bowl
Again.

the media
fueling our fears
over morning coffee