on the bed
a well loved teddy bear
one eye missing

silently waiting
beside my bed
old fuzzy slippers

his mother's ring
he gently places
on my hand

waiting to save the day
nuts and screws in
the coffee can

an old soul
Vietnam veteran
shrapnel in his neck

torn sweatshirt
still keeps me warm
Daddy

seaside cliff
abandoned cottage
our fortress

piercing blue eyes
speaking of loneliness
the scar on her right temple

face of stone
the man
stares through me

child’s drawing
blue and orange
letter I

fallen oak tree
our diving board
into the lake

withered, just as they—
the split rail fence
warmly greets me at Idle Akers

grandfather’s watch
holds time twice a day
still holding the best times of his life

dusty gravel road
with bare fields on either side
the road to home

faded Spuds McKenzie sweatshirt
breezy autumn air
as we approach the bonfire

fire...
edges burned
baby book

crackling music from
the record player
every scratch memorized

grandmother’s mirror
a crack runs down
her smiling face

dust cloud
the rusty pickup
along a gravel road

in my palm
baby booties.
close my eyes…

three legged dog
lifts his stump
warm spring shower

the old girl
lays at my feet
her beard, as gray as mine

walking with difficulty
he still loves
her every move

ratty old butterfly
blanket…
brings pigtails and giggles

a pile of metal
a black metal frame
someday a jeep

passed down to me
the locket
I never wear

Dad’s
rusted tractor
I can still see him

little boy
heart with 2 holes
a heart of gold

surrounded by brown earth
she holds the tiny blue bird
perfectly still

Grandma’s ring
shines bright
on my finger

her mother’s wedding gown
old and out of style
a smile as she walks down the aisle

old picture frame
glass broken
her face smiles up at me

teenage stickers
adorn the trunk
of nostalgic dreams

Mom’s gown
altered
down the aisle again

in the antique chest…
lie the little boy's
long forgotten rosary beads

rusty ole bumper and
faded paint…
apple of his eye

standing guard
searching the horizon
faithful retriever waits

i walk a little faster
one dark night
forgetting the bronze man

in the back
of his sock drawer
rescued again

bell bottoms and wedge shoes
back in style
her mother’s old trunk

tattered flower boots
thrift store excursions
with mom

puppy breath
kisses on my nose
after his punishment

black Bible
with falling pages
my father’s signature inside

Rilke book
stained with coffee
never to be given up

thin blue jeans
frayed at the bottom
perfect fit

Christmas morning
he will never know
it was made from wood
leftover from the swingset

faint scent of leather
worn laces
i throw a perfect spiral

first serious hospital visit
not too bad for 99
she will still mow the yard in the spring