Shards

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)
 

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…

always a kitten 

to keep my toes warm at night

and my heart warm too

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

the canvas denied
 (i forgot the calendar)
 and now she’s alarmed
 
 cuddling, crying
 is how Thursday’s doomed to end
 (until humor comes)
 
 thank god for sisters
 who constantly entertain
 (our family of friends)
 

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)