an afternoon wind
blew in a flurry of texts
and opened this door–
it knocked down a glass
from our dishwasher-less rack
(because all things break)
it sent me spinning
on my endless carpool trip
(keeping up with kids)
the sun was shining
on my student-made pastry,
unaware of shards.
i swept up pieces,
circled back to get daughter
and wash more dishes.
baklava melted
like rays of afternoon sun
in each of our mouths
(a reminder that
gusts of wind, circling drives
are just shards of days)
Author: lovizmytrio
Cheers to Tears
on Monday, a beer
because the cafe was closed
and i needed one
it was a sports bar
and the tears she shed were mine
in goodbye moments
(i didn’t share them–
not then, not out on the street–
only in words. here.)
because i’ve been there.
we have all been there. mothers.
sisters. wives. children.
i should have seen it.
the comings, goings of days,
built on loss and fear.
her tears were my tears.
her daughters were my daughters.
we are all the same.
At Least There’s…
Interception
art intercepts life
on a cloudy Denver day
at the museum
social justice rules
when we create from our souls–
pen; paint on canvas
after a long walk
The Nightingale finally ends
(leaving with sorrow)
sorrow chases steps
across the gray of our lives,
of this cool spring day.
but i still find hope:
in neighborhood yard signs,
girls getting along,
in the purring cats,
the moist grass that begs to grow,
the chances that wait,
in my daughters’ eyes,
and the fight we all must fight
till tomorrow comes.
Freaky Friday
bitter sister fights
after Friday conferences?
it seems about right
no weekend chilling
what the fuck are they thinking?
we just want to rest
and my girls’ good grades
and flawless school behavior?
who are these people???
let the teachers leave
let us all be real here:
let us all… breathe… deep
(it’s all over now–
the fights, the drama… Friday)
so let us rejoice
because she got in
will be at school with me soon
my little freshman
and all that matters
on a freaky Friday night
is that they are mine
Art Night Redux
Essay This
writing for four weeks
we’ve reached the final draft stage
and i can sit down
What Should I Wear?
the perfect lesson
in my first period class
in fifth? disaster
thank goodness for luck
(first hour observation)
and a good review
then onto the day:
grading papers, copies made,
driving the carpool
then circling back
for “emergency group work”
(that’s due tomorrow)
and a crazy booth,
a new and broken scooter,
quick crepes for dinner
the usual groans
for the chores that make our lives
in a wheel of work
weekdays are beast days
with an endless set of hats
that go with nothing
Up Before 6
A two-headed cat
Made me forget about poems
Ad everything else
It’s Only Monday
the chaos of days
marked by appointments, meetings
(it drives me crazy)










