We were 12 when we met In the small classroom In the little country church And we became fast friends   You were at my house Or I was at yours Every chance that our parents Would allow it   I became part of your…

He was people. He was a good boy. He started out As a ball of fluff Who fell asleep in my arms While we decided which ball of fluff to take home. “This one.” There was no choice. He was the loving one.

when only crickets and owls are singing a summer serenade, do you question why you are here, pen in hand struggling for the correct cadence, searching a thesaurus for just one more way to describe these hours of Stygian darkness? The 0100 train whistles to…

Corina My breath is caught by late winter wind, a deliberate expulsion of my lungs, to feel more like a smoker or a locomotive. Neither seem better though. I miss you more even when you’re across the table or across the room. I was executed…

Love Limerick I met a jazz drummer one day. We kissed and ate tofu satay. I thought that he knew my feelings were true, but Simon just threw me away.

tables after Lisa Wamsley piled documents and unused candles on the table between us. can we adjust our eyesight towards each other like we do in the dark. father leans eyes to his goulash, one hand patient on napkin. my mother on the phone three…

I always loved you daddy even though you left us, while I was young, As I was growing up, I always got some what high strung, I would blame my lovely mother, for you not being around, For it was with her sister, where love…

A medical scare, Emotional disconnection From myself From my life From the goals I set for longevity, Uncomfortable discussions exchanged with my doctor. I didn’t want to believe it, I had to hear the truth. Choices, I had none. It was either live or die….

There’s no valid explanation for her moniker. Perhaps the disaster of her male dress when high collars and long skirts were called for. Or her trek west atop horse, fearless where others were not. Credibility is called into question when alcohol scents female breath. Besides, we…

I keep the pieces of the angel ball. They are too lovely to discard– hand painted wings and stars and sky (and dried red peppers in a bunch) on egg-shell slivered glass.   Ideas broke my heart . . . be perfect, which you cannot…