Closing My Eyes I can hear your feet padding to the kitchen See soft, pale feet sinking deep into red shag carpet smell purple shampoo meant to save your silver taste the salt and satisfaction of bacon prepared with a Granny’s love and bony fingers…

Oh, what bliss it is, Grandkids on the ottoman, Spin and somersault. Carpet ice-skating, To the the tune of her spinning, Not a box, a girl. Do I hear a squeak? Yes, they pretend to be mice, Hiding on the stairs. They build a city,…

Morpheus I was not supposed to be there, that place in the woods. I went anyway, reasoning that one who walked softly could not be a trespasser. The path leading in could easily be missed, a barely seen comma in a nearly unbroken green sentence….

Deafening is your silence and I can’t bear it anymore For it’s your anger that I feel every passing hour Come spill it out spit fire unto my face Than treat me this cold from then to these days Deafening is your silence and I…

Sometimes the days are long, and you feel all hope is lost. You push yourself to get ahead, no matter what it might cost. Others talk you down, you fall in line, losing sight of your dreams. You realize one day that their world is…

Brother Stephen   I loved the boy who tore down my treehouse, so I didn’t tell him to stop. I just climbed down and let the destruction happen because he was drunk, and I was a fatalist and believed then, as I do now that…

That’s what we always called it. Sure, we lived near the water treatment facility, but we didn’t FEEL like people who lived near the water treatment facility. It was mostly a place for kisses. Young, sweaty kisses and cheap cologne and prayers to God about…

seeking perfection making sacrifices (avoiding food and boys) but i was a soloist … we toured We made it look easy Hiding our bloody feet and calloused souls the dance studio was my home Prepping to enjoy my time on stage years later, only a…

There is nothing wild anymore, nothing sweet or real or free. God gave me wild strawberries I ate until my lips were red. The crawdads don’t live here now. No mounded holes, no hidden home. The old men with their whiskey bottles and their sticks…

Once upon a time there were black swans, testosterone-laden geese, and a white peacock. It never went near the water, but pecked for insects in the leaves near the ranger’s house. Once, I saw it fly up into a tree.   None of us knew…