a cold, windy morn
finding our legs on the ice
that waits for winter

a cold, windy morn
finding our legs on the ice
that waits for winter

White Elephant win
with every Bingo chiste
bringing laughter, joy




Dad building raised beds
in the middle of winter
in hope of spring growth

finally, a grin
showing nine weeks of fixed teeth
with a shine of pride

they’re all grown up now
even their cookies have grown
in their perfection





he’s no idea
what he’s got himself into
with these crazy girls

cookies are cookies.
we will cut, bake, decorate.
’cause it’s what we do.

arms, metal, ginger:
what is a holiday scent?
molasses. that’s it.

and soft-spun sugar
ready to perfect Christmas
with gingerbread sweets.

ice-cold Tuesday night
(ice skating on a weeknight?)
icing on the cake

we must stay outside
we must wear masks, be cautious
we must learn to live

all out of the house?
all the teens out together?
all the miracles
the boy taught himself
the boy had never skated
my boy taught himself
almost all love skis
and that’s enough for today
that, and fresh powder


some rough beginnings
can end in the perfect way
for a perfect day




Almost a year ago, we invited this boy home for Christmas because he was living in a youth shelter.
We brought him downtown to see this beautiful tree.
And what a year it has been. Challenging in more ways than we ever thought imaginable, and all of us adjusting to this new life of having a brother and a son in the midst of a pandemic.
Here we are, standing under these same lights. And aren’t they still beautiful?


