green below us
new beginnings
do I forgive?

summer night
the glow of fireflies
smeared across the driveway

clear winter night
forever awed
by the depth of the sky

violet petals
soft against her skin
feel like sin

the curve of her neck
exposed
February breeze

ambiance of crickets
her lips
linger on mine

strawberry kiss
on white paper towel
lonely daydream

wiping away my tears
I compose myself
for him

howling wind
pierces my ears—
an awkward silence

lost sock
in the dryer
new relationship

summer crush
hoping that she
has nothing to do with you

April Fool’s night . . .
at the movies
by himself

waiting on the porch
excited for romance
shattered "April Fools"

soggy sheet of ice
cracks beneath my feet
sad to see it go

lilac blossoms—
taking the long way around
embraced

Mardi Gras…
late night prayers
to the porcelain God

should I say it
wind changing direction
here goes

last night's
ashes
on my pillow

inhaling smoke
bass in my chest
heartbeat through the floor

cheap plastic beads
adorned by thousands
the bigger the better

thick, white icing
round king cake
find the plastic baby

sleet on stained glass
yelling parents and nuns
red left ear

stations of the cross
old wooden pews
and the smell of old people 

splash . . .
a friend's face
drips holy water

sharp pain
flying beads
thrown from above

fixing soup
for my catholic boyfriend
I scoop out the chicken

ashless forehead
she reaffirms her faith
in the cold stairwell 

ashes on forehad
businessmen scurry
to check off another task

cookies in the freezer
wait to be eaten
until Easter

mardi gras beads
shoved into the sock drawer
while mother visits

year of sins
I sit
ask for my forgiveness

broken and scarred
he lifts my chin
a new heart

weary traveler
He blows a kiss
from heaven

in fear I turn
His arm
long enough to reach

wine soaked bread
ancient words
in my body

spring Sunday
soprano voice
not quite there

night before Lent
quick trip to store
last piece of pie

rainy night
soaking wet
no stopping us 

lawn chair
cooler of beer
all you need 

sun through the blinds
I turn to my left
goddamn beer goggles

man of silver and gold
statuesque
begging for money

rumbling growl
from a fasting stomach
as she passes 

mist of rain
moment of silence
Ash Wednesday mass 

empty pews 
waiting in silence
single flame flickers 

grandma's ashed forehead
we chuckle . . .
catholic stuff 

silent autumn chill
on a mountain
the death that gave life 

my very best friend
murdered
so we can be together 

the raucous fat tuesday:
after dinner
we do the dishes together

last feast before
lent
pancakes and sausage

Ash Wednesday
a big dark cross
sprinkling down my eyes 

he drank
he ran-
naked 

waking up
beads all over the floor
what happened?

church
blessing
I wear a mark 

bourbon
on Bourbon Street…
arrested!

strawberry margarita
warms the insides
fingers frozen

letting her hair down
feathered
masquerade 

cinders fall
from temple
to cheek 

beads of gold
a drunk woman tumbles . . .
topless

Ash Wednesday
trash on the streets
of New Orleans

deep wine-
coloured
clothe

dusty thumb down
and across each forehead
to dust you shall return

40 days
40 nights
. . . restraining himself

Bourbon Street
his last drink
hits the ground