start and end with work
how ungodly my Sunday
blessings everywhere
painted face friends grin
i enjoy two thirds of joy
my kids everywhere
from Iraq, Burma
Eritrea, refugees
whose faces aren’t here
i guide them with words
never as harsh as a mom
because they’ve suffered
my girls? only joy
bestowed on Americans
with rich white privilege
no way to explain
my work-fair-filled church-less day
may God bless us all
a three-foot hallway
blanket, last year’s science boards
fort made of magic
here we play cadoo
spin tales with pictures and acts
clinging to our youth
she begs to cuddle
as morning melts into noon
always my baby
we play piano
i grade, then guide her through math
later, a hike fight
sun swallows the creek
as they beg back summer swims
but leaves are gold-tipped
the baby departs
we have our own sleepover
with love, city lights
they spin spaghetti
dance beside beer cyclists
here we fall for fall
should have known better
taught the oldest to shave legs
sis shaved off eyebrow
parenthood surprise
mushroom tag and night riding
her shame forgotten
watching them grow up
better than the science fair
lab filled with laughter
environs burning
a newly bright beginning
but are you two-faced?
will you sell my soul for yours?
beautiful, that face of yours
my girl as witness
to the only one i trust
how she knows my heart
i stand in ashes
created by betrayal
all the years back, us
how you’d turn that pretty face
and become the enemy
but leaves are falling
and i crunch my way back home
you’ll never hear it
half-circle of chairs
watching dog-walkers pass by
we munch our minions
share the glory of our days
glory be home to our days
grievous homecoming
tinged with touch of puberty
parenthood pain lasts
mountain riverbed
gold against blue aspen fire
drive dipped in heaven
waterfall delights
imaginative girls’ eyes
a doll’s paradise
toes dipped in ice falls
while leaves leave us dipped in gold
summer dipped in fall
after-death clean-out:
desk too big for any room
memories replayed
pictures old and new
as far back as pain will reach
childhood relived
my life: email eye
spying on my every move
wait for responses
girls spin through crying
once it was: feed me, change me
now? essay, read, bathe
single motherhood:
just one week, and not for me
(found him at nineteen)
rushed dinners, yelling
later: lawn, Where’s Waldo search
we’ll never find him
his day versus mine:
turmoil a different tune
loss and love, rebirth
how they bring me joy
after all the years and tears
how they bring me joy
mid-day, he flies home
all afternoon i cook hope
form: chicken divan
an old recipe
that i made for their visits
but i wrap up now
to console still-birth
and recall family presence
even when they’re gone
the youngest cries out
because she is daddy’s girl
his phone face is brave
girls devour hope
pile ice cream for dessert
before his mom dies
asleep beside him
she heard him calling her name
she could let go, rest
midnight he’ll be up
flying home faster in dreams
regret, remorse, grief
the only one there
as she brought in her last breath
his worst fear present
the youngest cries out
as his siblings fill the house
he’s a mama’s boy
without his mama
no brave phone face, only tears
life’s a rented dream
before dawn message
asks permission for my love
i’m awake, ready
my soul sister breaks
before the sun emerges
i’d give her my life
sleep is a present
unpresent in this week’s life
seven days of hell
he flies tomorrow
what if he doesn’t make it
in time for her death?
my girls play the wii
squealing with best friend’s pained joy
parents’ illness wins
and yet they smile
dress up in formal attire
perfect for their game
living life scares me
as i list all my boyfriends
kindergarten up
ask him to recall
if he searched for love like me
or found it at home
he cannot answer
too consumed by coming grief
losing his mother
they will play all night
and go vacation their dreams
never knowing loss
that is what i want
no search for school boyfriends
just love at home. LOVE.
before dawn alarm
lesson planning just can’t wait
always on my mind
six a.m. invite
curly-haired house of welcome
piano and grins
inside the lead walls?
plea for more books, print, copy
teach the world’s kids
order sympathy
on an unsigned card of hate
my heart sees flowers
psychologist’s help
ends with failing soccer star
begs for a grade change
policies can’t write
or change the screaming patient
that closes my day
teary, manly hugs
from those arms that ask for more
doctors don’t listen
at dark i drive home
day wholly spent on others
to hear more sad news
such is adult life
no more hide and seek for me
everything exposed
but how their eyes light
as they share their days’ stories
must. remember. JOY
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