Playing the ukulele

Playing the ukulele


for the first time leaves

you with fingers numb

as a child’s blue

ones after playing

in the blizzard, as

Mom’s after scraping

ice from the windshield,

as bones grown raw.

Shawn’s Poem

Shawn’s Poem


I never choke

her as we make


love. She reaches

up to me, grabs


my tongue, and pulls

out my spine.

The Frog and Cricket Cabaret Night

The Frog and Cricket Cabaret Night


Deep hums emulate from beneath

the fringe of the shrubs as the sky

fades to orange to pink, purple,


black. Drizzle mingles with splashes

from rippled puddles and pools, steams

to a boil. Kids in raincoats


and large red boots stomp in the dark,

across gravel, through water,

under leaves. Jars filled with lightning


bugs light their way, makeshift flashlights.

In their other hand, empty

jars, ready to catch the hums.


Giggles become shushed as creatures

leap back into the night, followed

by excited feet. They hide


beneath the corn stalks and fallen

tomatoes. The dirt becomes trampled

mud, ripe for tomorrow night.




Apples ripen at the touch of hands, we

pretend, like kid’s playing in the snow, real,

like flowing creeks sparkling with sun, cool.

We Love Because He First Loved Us

We Love Because He First Loved Us


When a father’s hand cradles a daughter,

envelops her in worn and wrinkled skin,

love pours down from Heaven and lands, sprinkling

open eyes with dew and streams of rich

velvet. Chocolate tufts mingle with half-formed curls,

enwrapping her fresh face with wisps of hope,

belonging. Steam rises, the weighted touch

echoes her aching heartbeat as heavy

cords spill from her wet chest. She endures being


anointed with blood, oxygen, and stomach

untethered. The womb cries, yearning the full

shape of life to come back home, to dance,

elated within a pocket of unsevered skin.

Hope fades as nurses, doctors rush, sensing

emergency and quickened pulse. Her father

finds a place to peer through the window,

insisting to be near as her mother

rolls, contorts, and dreams of her daughter’s life


still unblossomed. Crisp golden laughter chimes

throughout empty hallways beaming pink,

light, and flowery. She stands tall, his gruff hands

overlapping hers, tracing the stomach

vividly protruding. Curled hair glows

excitedly within her, mimicking.

Daughter becomes mother, empty and full wombs

united as one. Dew forms from half-hearts,

steam and love rise the way it once poured down.

Pray Continually

Pray Continually


People, people everywhere,

rambunctiously await

aweing days of morning.


Years go by, fleeting moments,

centuries. Great rulers

overturned, worlds change,


nothing sustains. Yet one by one

toddlers grow, smiling,

immune to destruction,


nascent beings hinging

upon kind words, clear skies

and continuity.


Love spins the world, keeps

living, and dies within souls,

yours and mine.

Is this thing on?

A big hello to everyone out there! This is my first marathon, so I am nervous and excited all at once! I just finished up a poetry course in the spring, so I’m hoping to put that knowledge to good use. I’ve been doing mostly editing lately, so I am glad that I will be able to finally put my own work out there! I’m so happy to be meeting so many other poets!


God bless,