love

July Daughters (2011)

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Isabella

not a tear or a fear
you smile at adventure
we leave you for four days
and the silence of your absence
is brighter in my mind
than the happy photos
of your smiling face
that they send to us

Riona

words escape you
as you blink back dark eyes
and growing-out bangs,
hiding behind my leg,
your babyhood reemerging

yet

when they are gone
you endlessly request
the words that have filled our hearts
(after moments of hesitation)
they magically conjure from your mouth

Mythili

a pile of donated clothes
sit like humped garbage
on the living room floor

i open bags
sift through worn-out knees
and missing-mate shoes

Oh, I didn’t know new dresses were coming in
your six-year-old crone remarks,
lighting a fire beneath my doubts.

Always an Adventure

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the rain beats down
as we stand in hushed surprise
rush to the endless line of cars
where we wait wait wait
always an adventure

the stars beat down
on a tent without poles
dirt as thick as cream on skins
fires that won’t start
always an adventure

the sun beats down
on a misnavigating device
streets clogged with crowds
underground cracks of hellish heat
always an adventure

my soul beats down
on two jobs, three kids
bills piling like paper mountains
parents who miss what i have:
always an adventure

Quiet Reservations

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you will never say
the words that would pop
right out like a sucker gone sour
from the bitterness of my mouth.
instead you click shut the phone,
slide it into your pocket
of quiet reservations,
and tell him
with all the ease of a southern gentleman,
You’re coming home with us

and before the dawn has crept in,
before you’ve taken the girls to swimming,
even before balloon animals conjure
Spanish vocabulary from their mouths,
you remind me again
why
in so few words
yet so many gallant reactions
you are mine,
i am yours.

Stardust

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i thought i hated you
but you have come back in dreams
the holographic star
not letting loose a feathery dress
formed by British hands
instead the skyscrapers formed from stardust

i could call it haunting
(for it wakes me)
but it is a joyous light
leading so many home
in those underground pathways
too hot to touch in my subconscious

you will return
just as i have to you
and we will remember being eight
and the giant Christmas tree over ice
the guards in front of FAO
and the stardust skyscrapers
now rising up from ash

Twisted Logic

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how can i explain
the twisted logic
she openly verbalizes
as we sift through photos
of smoke and ash?

she will only see (one day)
perfect reflection pools,
beams of light calling to heaven,
beautiful bright buildings
standing like shadows
in place of what was lost.

she will not remember
(or pull back tears as i do),
but look into the world
with the hope that
the twisted logic of those ‘pilots’
is left behind with the rubble
they wrapped in a flag and carried home.

Sticky

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bathed in yellow light
their words fill the amphitheater
red rocks bearing down
surrounded by shadows of clouds, moon
my eyes will be sticky with tears
my heart sticky with hollow
long after every seat lies empty.

Door to Shore

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she’s shoeless behind me
and he carries a load
worth a thousand pounds in gold
we coast down to the beach
(four miles from door to shore)
pedal harder home in summer rain
that tickles our backs
as thunder threatens our ears

this is the Vittetoe Express
missing a link along the line
broken into bright patches of light
as three girls, two chairs, two floaties,
one giant Camelbak,
and the love of my life
carry us home

Chihuahua

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half a snake’s length
she presses against my thigh
as if it could be cold in July

one weekend away
and she whines when we leave
her Chihuahan heart upon her sleeve

ten years old
and though she still drives me crazy
she teaches love, faith, and how to be lazy!

June Daughters (2011)

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Riona

curled in lap like kitten
you nestle in near the baby
remember that you are the baby
though simultaneously
you tag along with sisters and friends
try to partake
in your almost-five world
of big kid-dom
show your cousin how to hold a book
how to slide down the big slide
how to spray the hose
how to be
the beautiful little person
you have come to be

Isabella

whisperer
you listen in to all our conversations
picking out nuances
like the brightly colored beads
you choose for your necklaces
identifying each sparkling word
for its hidden meaning

whisperer
we stand along the fence
our neighing voices lost in the wind
you dash across, wipe the sky with your voice
high pitched and hard to hear
the horses listen, gallop
at the fence line in five seconds
your hand out with carrots as
thick equine lips pluck everything
from your fearless fingers

whisperer
you lift her out once
guide her to slides
push her in swings
she is head over heels
and denies me
only allows you
to wrap your arms around her
heave her up
change her diaper
and speak in a language
the adults can’t understand

Mythili

forethought and logic
shouldn’t quite fit
with a child younger than seven

yet you stop as sisters
blow away money with the wind
saving yours for something special
still trapped inside your imagination

you tell it like it is
pointing out the necessity of native plants
the reasoning behind new sidewalks
the purpose of cold hose water in the pool

i see you now
new front teeth coming in
i see you then
new world coming in
your forethought and logic
the backbone of who you are.

Colors of the Night

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i forget (as we sit here,
our hamstrings on the boat’s spine)
the colors of the day

was the sky as blue as the jays
darting in and out of trees?
were the forests a mixture of
pine and deciduous greens?

your mouth reaches mine
like the palm of a blind man
cupping my lead home

all i can see now (day washed away)
are contrasting colors of night
silver, black, gray, and white
as sharp as noon in my sight

you press against me (i reach out)
clasping the colors in my hand
your movements trapping them in memory

black unblurrable jagged mountaintops
over silver unpretentious waves of lake
sky’s gray bosom bursting with rainclouds
beneath the full serving of white moon

i forget (breaths heavy with dew)
the colors of the day, see only
carved out images in colors of the night