the light right now
as i kiss my girls goodnight?
it is unlike any other sunset,
the clouds a perfect concoction
of pink and gray,
and they hold tight to my neck
and beg me for stories of Medusa
that Silverstein told them about,
that i ad-lib with college knowledge.
i’m going to college,
they chime in,
three birds in a row,
so i can know as much as you
and they are my girls
through and through
love
A Million Times More
the emotions are so intense
when the right song is played
when my girls say the right words
i cannot fathom my life without them
they sit under green blanket
as i write this
my oldest inflecting as needed
the words she learned years ago to read
my middle girl?
the best combination
of crone and imaginative maiden
fantasy worlds mixed with logic
and the baby?
idealism at its best
all the things we’ve dreamed of
wrapped up in a five-year-old’s summary
i cannot fathom
my life
without these girls
(i’ve said it before
i’ve named a poem
i’ll say it a million times more)
If I Were to Make You Mine
i know you had it in you this morning,
the urge to pull me close,
to wrap me in your warmth.
i know it was there between each of us.
could i have spared more time?
could i have cut back
on the hills hovering before me?
sometimes i wonder about the miles
that lie between here and there:
how tightly knit they appear,
how curvacious and beautiful they can be
and if i were to make you mine,
would i have seen the shrinking moon,
would i have made all the green lights
that graciously gave me my record time?
would i have been the same person,
giving in to one moment over another?
these small decisions
made before dawn
are the ones that haunt us in the end
I Couldn’t Begin to Describe
she is crying again
he asks why and only i know
those are my tears on her face
i smile outwardly
it’s amazing how outwardly i smile
on nights like this?
these are the nights
when i wonder
if i will ever get over this
her request is so simple
it is five-year-old simple
please don’t go to work mama
it is all i have ever asked
and all i have ever known
all warped in the same twisted
conundrum
without him i would lose myself
(she says another story)
and i cannot commiserate
because
without
him
i
would
lose
myself
i couldn’t begin to describe
i couldn’t begin to describe
the person i met
(i was just a baby)
who i knew i would marry
i couldn’t begin to describe
the fortune sent by God himself
(he would hate that i include Him)
at age nineteen
i couldn’t begin to describe
the man i married
you would never understand
you could never understand
and just like i tell my
nine-year-old daughter
don’t marry anyone who is
not as good as him
–and what if i don’t find
someone as good as him
(God how she’s my daughter)
then don’t get married
(insert tears)
OK Mama
i couldn’t begin to describe
just
the
person
you
will
never
see
Electrified Files
outspoken as always
he asks why i smile
she loves watching us work,
his classmate chimes in
(all teachers live for torture)
he has caught me in a moment
(one of many on this first day back)
where my available memory sits
on the forefront of my monitor
(the smile will never be far
from lips that can’t hide happiness)
(i will never tell him
i will tell almost no one)
the images i tuck in electrified files
at the base of my hard drive
ready to upload
a screensaver’s pleasure
at the smiling touch of a keyboard
The Royal Arch
i can run up this hill
(it is more like a mountain)
i’ll take my years-old Adidas
and pound my way, breathless,
till i see that rock formation
sweat streams from my pores
and i snatch glances back at you
we might as well go all the way now
i point out, once we see the
.23 miles left sign at the top of the pass
you must rest, drink, and i gather in
the view of the rock-steps,
the city of my dreams,
and your sweat/cologne scent
while i wait for you
the last stretch, trail hidden
by a trickling waterfall
amongst rocks so steep we must
use the strength of our palms to pull,
is always the hardest
there it is though…
the arch that has rested above my world
for all of my life,
and without this beautiful day,
these strenuous steps,
without you, i would have missed it
I Am Always Amazed
i could hear the howling
i had my gym bag packed
i longed for climate control
(i longed for you more)
throw passion to the wind
they always say that
because they’re not driving
into a twenty-mph-headwind
or feeling it edge along
our backs, our tires
as we ride uphill
faster than the opposite side
pushes down
it’s always those curves along the dam
trying to tell us we can’t make it–
they don’t know us very well, do they?
how i ache to reach the end
where i will have full view of the lake,
where you will take me down
the curvacious path
and rebuild the quads
that have longed for you all winter
i am always amazed
i am always amazed
by how connected i feel
(alone on you)
to the world around me,
how i see the water
and in it my grandmother’s love
for looking at the water,
(insert tears here)
how the right song always comes on
(“Sky Blue and Black” this morning)
how all my stress
slips into the howling wind
as i race for a better time,
how i love,
love,
love you
Good
just like a baby
my baby curls in to cuddle
her small body
still fits into my lap
i can’t replace the hours we’ve lost
the years we’ve lost
or fill the ache in my heart
for the good i’m trying to do
that doesn’t do me any good
but when her tears creep down?
when she won’t go for a night of fun
because she’s missed me too much,
when the weeks have flooded by
in a pile of work
that i’m so fucking good at
when i can’t just be her mother?
it is too much
and i am five again
just like her
searching for my mother’s arms
to comfort the sadness
that rests so heavily on my soul
Coldness Tinged with Darkness
as we sit outside
in coldness tinged with darkness
she tells me what the backside of my brain
already knew
why i have to hear these words from her
from her
is enough to start the flow
and i wonder how i will
ever step back inside
he is gone into the night
and i want to see
the amazing person
she tells me i fell in love with
but i am bursting inside
with the aftertaste
of the words we spat at each other
i will drive in circles
searching for him
but only to throw anger
back into his face
he lies wrapped
in his usual coma of disengagement
we sit on the edge of the bed
it is almost laughable
all of us together like this
like this
fully clothed
tears and anger
to replace
laughter and love
there is nothing left to say
he says
there is nothing left to say
and i step back into
the coldness tinged with darkness
where i will search
for the words he’ll never share with me
Nothing Short of Art
we sit in central citified sun
sipping smoothies and lattes,
munching on freshly baked croissants
and chatting with strangers
on a day so warm it can’t be
the third week of January
(a beauty we all share
as we peel off our winter coats)
they skip alongside on an impromptu adventure,
moving along the zero street,
playing pig and picking out dates
on ovular stamps in concrete.
we enter the train store
and examine the pure wonder
of details so tiny, humans
standing knee-deep in plexiglass water,
monkeys climbing up a fallen-apart billboard,
and fast-moving trains. one declares,
it is nothing short of art
later i pedal into the wind
around the dam and up the hill
until i see the circular beauty of the lake,
and its curvacious path
interweaves me with a hundred pairs of legs,
all taking advantage
of this day like no other
before i am home
i am home,
and can almost forget
the tears whose all night sting
kept my eyes bleeding till morning,
the two dark, cold miles of separation,
and the hollowness of our words
that find their way
into the poems he wishes i wouldn’t write.
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