the twilight hour
creeps upon us . . .
we share a forbidden kiss

her irregular breathing
           everyone waits
     death

trails
like tiny models of rivers
the Earth’s veins

the swing creeks
under the shade tree
grandpa cries

moonlight crickets
fireflies lighting up
a glass jar

yarn spirals
out of control
cat paws

my hair
        identical to my thighs
                   thick

bird hiding
quietly
dog’s on point

Mama's backyard
the red tulips
keep growing back

family gathering
always one in the bunch
so loud and obnoxious

my family gathers
stories being passed around
dove hunt starts now

in the woods
the grey ghost
strikes again

on the bookshelf
my getaway
a different world

children playing
at a birthday party
lightning strikes

first day of school
anxious to wear
new . . . ?

a picture says
every word
except her name

soldiers’ footsteps
a thankful wife
with an unborn son

no invitation needed
just video clips
to Mark the moment

sweet serenade
sung to the evening wind—
no answer

line after line
painting alone
so calm

sunny side
over the horizon
I paint a picture

the flat rock skips
across the still pond,
humming between hops

lawn clippings
in the rain
the dog’s house

boxes all around
saying goodbye
to our home

crowded classroom
fan blowing hot air
on the students

lights out
in a hot classroom
the movie plays

DIY floors
makes me smile
my black thumbnail

boom
blindsided
250 lbs

tear drops
you
aint worth them

pain already,
before you hit the ground
what a hit

impromptu tantrum
the little boy stares
at fireflies

her only friend
worn and torn
she whispers in an ear

her weeping willow
in the rearview mirror
no regrets

flip . . . flop
warm sand nestles between my toes
                                    flip . . . flop

12 hours a day
payday on
Friday

band-aids and kisses
don't make it
all better

full of tears
and questions
French toast in the car

nightshift father
in a smokey kitchen
his son shines

afraid to be herself
when no one else
is watching

a small boy
runs out the door
shoes on backwards

the longest mile
ever
she stops midway

oh great . . .
mom and dad
are both here

red heels,
a second look in the mirror
reminiscent photos

two feet
one whole shoe
back to bed

winter night
no jacket
not a care

broken umbrella
saturated shoes
puddles I leave behind

dusty leather
old cracks and creases
just another day for the boots

his shoes
the blueprint
of his swag

old fish tank
in my cluttered room
vacant

sad faces
in the revolving door
different children everyday

ducks in a row
we follow everyone else
just to please the government

unfinished duties
burnt biscuits out of the oven
Top of the morning to you!

dangling skillets
near the creaky screen door
refreshing breeze

wam bottles
leftovers memories
in the Impala

first pocket-knife
whittling a stick
in the woods

the pressure
it’s all up to you
strike three . . .

“rush” hour
seems like hurry up
and wait