whew!!!!!! The last one. I used six of the words Glory spills into the lake from the sky by way of the moon’s spare yet lovely light A canopy of reeds bends over hiding the silvery reflection. No need to panic A quick glance at…

So I will wear my heart on my sleeve And give it to the boy who passes by me He will notice not and go away And I’ll cry my eyes out all night all day I’ll sabotage him of breaking my heart I’ll try…

1. Turn me inside out, then turn me, wear me like a coat, hold your secrets in my pockets, keep me hidden until winter. 2. I am summer fury, let the heat dismantle you, let the memories burden you with sweaty nights with dreams about…

The halfway mark A canopy of words Protecting me My breastbone aching from sitting up Panic shadowing me Chasing me The moon whispering to keep going There will be glory at the end My body would give it all For ten hours sleep And a…

Seeing You   You look past me like I ain’t here and maybe I ain’t.   Sometimes I wonder if there’s anything I can do to make you look at me, but you wouldn’t like it if I tried. It feels like you’re turning the…

Do you have a spare breastbone? Mine was shattered, By the light of the moon, Under a canopy of stars. I drove my Jeep To the far end of the lake Looking for you, Tasting the glory I would know When our lips met. Was…

Late Saturday afternoon, familiar summer sound revs up, neighbors’ lawn mower blats along as the grass flings out of the chute. A sudden metallic CLANG! halts the motor abruptly. Various *!@#!! words float up to the window beside my desk. Futile pulling on the starter…

Moon suspended in a canopy of stars And a lake so perfectly reflecting the sky It feels as if I’m floating No longer able to tell up from down Panic thumps against my breastbone When the snow begins to drift from above It becomes easier…

MISSING: A Miss Antonia Benton   Last seen wearing: a light blue jumper with gray converse and two brown-haired braids   Last heard: stomping her little feet in a Walmart over no more getting to the push the cart   Last spoken: to her mother distracted by…

Fourteen-stories of hotel towered over downtown Minneapolis; the massive pine by our back drive stretched nearly to the tenth the bottom boughs canopied out, branches looping upward, forming a cozy, sweet-smelling cave we rented out rooms, not the tree still, guests were often staying  there…