Quarantine evening

On the front porch

Eating berries and cream

A June evening, 

out of a dream 

The sky is velvet 

It’s black and blue 

The windchimes whispering 

Give me this moment 

And let it last 

Let me have it to hold when it is past 

Can I keep it in my pocket 

All round and glowing

My fingers to find it 

On days when it’s snowing 

my perfect marble moment 

By now I have a thousand 

Because what Lana said is true 

Heaven is a place on earth with you 

Quarantine morning

Lying in bed 

The first morning murmurs 

Open the window and turn off the fan 

I’m up first

And my coffee grounds bubble 

It’s called blooming 

When you let them breathe

Kiss me in the kitchen 

Making eggs and toast 

Bare feet on the tile 

It’s warm enough now 

And while you cook 

I check the garden 

Run my hands through the kale 

Kiss the sweet peas 

Whisper to the peonies 

Good morning 

May

Give me the the morning as soft as a peach 

Out of bed- into the garden

I’m up with the sun 

Watching my seedlings stretching and reach

It’s May & I’m dreaming in dahlias 

April 2020

Each of us has our grief, from canceled weddings and baby showers, canceled trips, missing our mothers, missing our sisters, missing our friends. For some there is death too. Sometimes death without goodbye. Sometimes death alone in a hospital bed. It’s all real, this sorrow we are swimming in. I am witness to the darkness, someone sobbing on the other line as I deliver some fresh devastation, with no face I can to match with their grief. 

Each of us alone, we are swimming in this sorrow together. 

Lion

Little lion

I carry you with me

You bring me light 

At midnight 

You bring me courage 

When I’m shaking in the wind

One foot in front of the next

I’m brave when they need me 

I’m blazing like the sun

for you 

my little lion 

Brave

He tells me I’m brave 

but I can do anything 

when I know I come home to these arms 

February

Something about the morning sun
on my tired face
on the front porch
in the cold air

I feel the stirrings
of something like hope

I sit in my warm memories
of papaya on the top deck
in the jungle
of the waves that tossed me
head over heels on the black sand

I close my eyes
the promise of springtime
it makes me ache
It feels something
like hope