why do i hear bells
far-off church in my bedroom
while i try to sleep?
is it divine light
keeping me awake at night
or stress, magnified?
(i recall the bells
ringing love in Michelen–
Belgian waffle day
chocolate, Belgian beer
no words for: straight from the source
and the bell college
chiming through the square
an echo i can’t forget
haunting, pleasing me)
this isn’t Poe’s poem
oh but the bells, bells, bells, bells!!
chocolate for my soul
dreaded decision
of a home no longer ours
that’s not worth selling
with caution we’ll choose
the path that sets in motion
the rest of our lives
please, a pinch of luck
for the money pit shadow
bought by newlyweds
bring it under light
to shine on our new knowledge
of how the world works
before dawn, i walk
full moon of icy danger
to be there for them
classroom lit, open
first day, students new to me
i set standards high
phones, backtalk, shouting
first impression resistance
shake me to my core
after school begging
for schedule changes, fallbacks
they hate and love me
i missed my girls’ smiles
their good-morning kisses, hugs
to face this chaos?
slushy post-school walk
to their bright eyes, warm faces
lost in built-up play
then, online ranting
plagiarizing grown student
demanding grade change
why you, and not them?
the question of my moon day
please… catch me a moon
make it bright like them
shining beyond snowy morn
lighting, guiding love
what secrets are found
in twenty years of letters?
and what dreams will come?
at sixteen, desperate
first love turmoil, heart crushed
i lived for friends, love
at twenty-six, scared
new baby, husband’s lost job
i lived on blind faith
now, thirty-six,
my life begins to balance
career, family… home??
sleep in which bed, house?
on which continent–east, west?
in whose arms–mine, his?
the letter will tell
my thirty-six-year-old goals
where my heart beats now
but heartbeats have wings
my girls will be all grown up
the world will change
i hope to keep up
with the childlike soul i dreamt
as a young lovebird
while at the same time
accepting life’s challenges
and… i can’t plan them
Cartagena blues
teasing me with memories
soldier guarding life
here i am, snowbound
(silent beauty winter)
biting cold, warm home
i could take this pic
right there next to that palm tree
basque in Spain sun
but i am here now
family on every corner
tongue out for snowflakes
tasted continents
on either side of the sea
and i am home now
her comments swallowed
like the Christmas morn semen
cranberry juice, please
i’m not defensive
just wish for white Christmases
like everyone else
i can win this game
Cards Against Humanity
with my best haiku
five girls are sleeping
in my parents’ bungalow
i love my city
my favorite movie
It’s a Wonderful Life, YES!!
live and Live and LIVE!!!!
lattice top apple
laid by a baking expert
five years of hard work
culinary school?
kitchens of Denver and Spain
dough soft as her cheek
yes, she was just three
her first try in our kitchen
all to be near me
i can’t buy her dreams
or make Santa come to life
but i’ll give her that
standing room only
crowd hushed for collegiate speech
from a sixth grader
bright academics
the spotlight shines on this school
rainbow of world
social injustice
swept under a brave chorus
strict rules understood
forgotten pencil
equals hour detention?
path drawn to success
unified voices
remedy doubtful choices
good god let them sing
another stressed day
just before Christmas bustle
lost to this sickness
tears fresh this morning
frozen pond glistening dawn
star-studded boathouse
guilt trailing my job
as he rushed home, two sick girls
and me? meetings, plans
she came back today
babyless, unpacking shelves
repacking her life
her despondence stung
i couldn’t leave her alone
burdened with boxes
we made plans, had lunch
I got your card, she told me
we’re not sending any
no family photo
for his first, never Christmas
(this is what i hear)
but she won’t say that,
leaves me lines to read between
your girls’ pic was great
her grief in all words
she tells of Christmas-free plans
prepared to move on
this i carry home
with oldest’s three earned awards
to my handsome chef
his job ends next week
i won’t worry who’ll nurse them
and make chicken soup
noodles fall from spoons
and girls, all better, delight
priceless remedy
now they’ll discuss me
what will he do now, and you?
i’ll have no answer
only the safety
of the home he makes for us
beyond what they see
like a lost puppy
he waits every afternoon
hoping for some help
i enable him
wonder where his friends might be
knowing he has none
everyday struggles
of left-behind countries, wars
haunt my students’ lives
tomorrow, the same
i’ll give him the look; give in
heart too wrenched for no
i’ll carry work home
(not as heavy as his load)
pray peace will find us
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