waving stripes
bright stars
a fallen soldier

returning home
from a busy day of classes
dirty dishes

fiery charcoal
open fire crackling
flipping sizzling burger

brown eyes
the most beautiful,
warm honey

dishes clank
my watch ticks
I nap

sunlight through the blinds
I touch the warm imprint
he left beside me

family portrait—
hidden in the attic
behind boxes

the smell of newspaper
my mother and father
sip their coffee

calm music
collapsing onto the bed
insomnia

black coffee
vibrant flannels . . .
the middle of summer

top bunk
bottom bunk
sisters share the silence

hearing my phone
buzz during science class
eyes lock onto me

stone country path leads
to a pond—
purple dragonfly

middle school dance—
running to the bathroom
after being asked out

warm ocean breeze
     blowing back my hair
I smell dead fish

wife sick in bed
he brings her
breakfast and a kiss

twirling fork
the strings rotating clockwise
disappear in her mouth

sunday afternoon
slicing the fresh flesh
of watermelon

church bells
crunch of dead leaves
as we walk

I sit in the backseat
two raindrops
race each other

one eye on the clock
shaky hands apply makeup
first date

movie date—
sharing buttery popcorn
is not my specialty

first graders
down the hallway
holding hands

the pain
lessens day     by day
people notice my smile

worn out
like an old pair of scissors
that just won't cut

swimming in the lake
a light drizzle
contours it's surface

father lectures
over and over
a broken record

reaching for pizza
shaky hands
first date

the lake
at sunset
an acoustic song

riding his bike
for the first time
dad lets go

busy streets
crowded sidewalks yet
still          alone

debating and arguing
fighting and screaming
but love conquers all

rumblings
of another war.
back to my homework

twinkling eyes
whispering to each other
from across the room

cracked pavement
he slowly disappears
from view

arms length apart
he smells like sweat
middle school dance

he comfortably sits
on his bed
of lies

throwing stones
at my window
I was fast asleep

lies and cover ups
just want the truth
catfish

the family calls her
his fiancé
at his funeral

eyes closed
I listen to his soothing voice
guiding me to peace

in the airport
after two years at war—
they don't let go

halfway through
the movie
he stretches his arms

breathtakingly beautiful
in every way
crooked nose

a rubber band
stretching
the truth

a dozen roses
dropped
on her front porch

he brushes
the hair from my face
kisses my nose