so many words lost
(Saturday night bed making)
scenes from a marriage
my Homecoming queens
who will never win titles
will still win with me
and what have they learned?
just how to love everyone
from all walks of life
spirit week beckons
dynamic duos, western.
even better: grins.
even behind masks
you can see my girls’ smiles
(it’s hope. returning.)
and the Finger Lakes
connecting the three of us
in this Denver school
let’s not forget hats
of the Colorado kind
western girls, my girls
**FINAL NOTICE**
Statement ID: 646 days.
License: Pending government approval.
Previous Charges: Empathy. Generosity. Kindness.
New Charges: Betrayal. Ignorance. Deception.
Amount Due: Loyalty. Awareness. Truth.
Due Date: 35 days ago.
**We recommend you send your payment 646 days in advance to allow for forgiveness time.**
DO NOT SEND LIES.
Toy Story 3. Now.
i could carry the bag out
and cry all morning
a toy, a trigger?
my girl is off to college.
(this is no cartoon).
and so he will stay.
though i know she will leave me.
each grinning their truth.
before the long drive,
enjoy the perfect park. shop.
soak up cousin time.
eat your sister’s meal
till the next time you see her.
too long (just too long).
your daughters will drive.
together, we can make it.
we will rule the night.
it’s all we can rule
with the oldest off to school
we can rule the night.
our youngest driver
plowing through rain, construction
toward the great Erie
our road trips have changed
as the girls become adults
yet, they’re still the same
local food, great views,
the ever-changing weather,
seeing every state
summer camp is done.
art, yoga, cycling, love.
and home stretch? cooking.
these so-rare smiles
pouring milk for tortillas
like happy siblings
did you say siblings?
how about our matching twins
with perfect spring rolls?
don’t forget sushi
made with Chinese expertise
to brighten their eyes
and fufu for all
stirred by girls from two cultures
finding friends at home
these mandazi men
so proud of their puffed product
all the way from home
taco influence
on the next generation
sharing her home’s heart
this sweet quesillo
comes from home with a sweet tale
(we’ve hit a home run)
the most perfect park
the most perfect afternoon
marred by words, actions
my innocent girl
who only wanted this day
not a broken mom
but it's just a blur
one day bleeds into the next
watered with defeat
i used to write poetry
broken lines, imperfect syllables, heart
so hard so imperfect so fucking bright
like the blue sky trying to break through and taunt a hailstorm but instead instead
instead
it's just ice
not the rain we needed to cool us in a heatwave
just ice
tearing through my well-tended garden
stealing the blue sky
steeling the blue eye
and ruining me
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