hidden behind mask
is my sixteen-year-old girl
(her pandemic grin)

i hope to win her
with walks, drives, conversations
just like the old days

hidden behind mask
is my sixteen-year-old girl
(her pandemic grin)

i hope to win her
with walks, drives, conversations
just like the old days

i can’t win with her
(this pandemic doesn’t help)
so here we are. trapped.
a personal gift
from her aunt, for Sweet Sixteen
ripped open, stolen

how dark can it get?
two Honduran hurricanes,
pandemic, no school?

and now birthday gifts
being stolen from our porch
while we sit like sheep?
yes, he can smile
with a photographer’s touch
the magic comes out


sometimes the sunrise
is the best part of the day
(before darkness falls)

lovely innocence
found in the curious eyes
of a young child

now masked by sorrow
even with her birthday gift
her eyes say it all

the day starts with tests
to secure her friends’ safety
in this COVID year
negative is good
whoever thought it’d be good
to be negative?

and so, she smiles
and we blow up the balloons
(losing one to wind)

and the four friends come
and she’s happy for just a day
of this lonely life

these fleeting moments
shared with a stencil of love
between my daughters

working for love
(sometimes it doesn’t pay back)
but we always try





some glow before snow
our weekend wrapped in moments
without argument


