Write of Passage

our boots squeak with snow
light as sparkling feathers
quiet city streets

middle one agrees
to traipse in winter beauty
so much like her mom

this brings me to peace
from sleepless, sorrowful nights
my words lost, then found

like our snowy prints
only seen from right behind
otherwise ignored

my most precious gift
recorded for all my life
despised by loved ones

perhaps she will walk
behind my wordy footsteps
her write to escape

for now, quiet snow
i accept what i can’t change
and keep on writing

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White Christmas

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!!!!

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Roast Beast

for some it’s the tree
others love the Christmas lights
for me, it’s the roast

scent of cranberries
rosemary, thyme, and red wine
bring my holiday

we’re having roast beast!
the Grinch is absent today
in our happy home

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Enough

as they grow older
it’s no longer life and death
over midnight cries

now? supply, demand
business modeled parenting
what if we run out?

what can i buy or give
to make them happy, love me?
which–time or gifts?

it’s never enough
they’re either spoiled or loved
often hard to tell

give them the world
so they’ll toss it back to me
demand better one

it’s human nature
to aspire for what’s not there
i’m never enough

love should be enough
i’m up nights loving too much
(they never see this)

as they grow older
i miss the crying days when
i knew they loved me

a hug was enough
to make it through a tough time
and they were all mine

no one will say this
they’ll say how much easier
they’re independent

independent, yes
from our once easy embrace
to face life’s demands

and to demand more
to make me question myself
will this be enough?

no simple response
to parenthood dilemmas
enough guilt tonight

Proximity

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

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Measures of Success

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

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Happy Christmas Hour

social butterfly
three drinks, chips and salsa in
what i wouldn’t give

i missed their parties
guilt sits behind every sip
will they forgive me?

daughter’s frantic call
and knowing that he’d be there
sum up afternoon

endless work awaits
there’s never a break from life
just a different drink

Home. Made.

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

Maternal Thievery

mother’s midnight dance:
rinse puke from stuffies and sheets
listen for gag sounds

hazy dose of job
sick grandma cares for sick girl
while sick husband works

cycle never ends
grandmother mother daughter
through sickness, health

mother’s twilight dance:
six laundry loads, leave sick girl
in hands now soft, warm

sleep? a silent joke
stolen from night, afternoon
thieves, our mothers’ love

Winter Break

survived another
harried nonstop dash Monday
give me winter break

if i’d a real job?
i’d go home early when sick
not pop pills to last

i’d go out to lunch
have adult conversations
away from all kids

how tiring talk
not filled with young undertones
would surely make me

instead i’ll take this:
endless work weeks, sick through some
needy happy kids

and yes, winter break
no holiday turmoil
my kids all around