Poem: Playground of Ghosts

The hours of sunlight have long past
I’m here in the places where nobody comes
Once street lights are on and the kids have gone home
The silence of daylight still echoes here
But I can’t hear it over the memories I’m replaying

Poem: Parody

I spent so long trying to make you happy
I forgot what my own happiness was
Without trying to please you in the process
With you I have become a reflection
That dances when you dance and falls
When you fall to the ground

Poem: Comfortable

We kicked our feet on swings
That protested more than we did
As they kept the motion perpetually
While we were running out of energy
An almost imperceptible drifting
Out of synch and in different directions

Poem: Swim

Summer is coming around again
Reminding me of your time of leaving
Packing suitcase full of memories
To hang on a dorm room wall
Where they hang until they’re covered
By new pictures of new people

Poem: Tending to the Flowers

I know it’s late
Or maybe it’s early
Time doesn’t mean much
To me any more
When the hours are leaves
Just falling away

Poem: Existential Conversations: I. Isolation

“We’re alone,” she says.

“No we’re not,” I responded to her.
I gesture at the café full of people,
she looks down into her empty cup.

“No, I mean we are alone.”

“I’m here with you.”
I smile and reach for her hand,
withdrawing it she looks out the window.

Poem: On Swings and Old Relationships

The swings creak on rusty chains
In the summer Virginia humidity
Kicking our legs between blue sky
Then green grass worn to dirt
We laugh talking about nothing
And everything all at once so often

Poem: Palinode to Happiness

If happiness was a person would it be mother
That vile person who filled our heads
With vile words of doubt that poison
A young mind with contempt for self
Before even knowing what self was

Poem: Punctuated

I do not like punctuation
In writing or life
Those structures that stop
Pause and contract
They frame what is said
Separating it from thoughts
Instead of being a complete pair

Poem: Mismatched

There is a mismatched spoon
Among the other utensils
I hate it
A single brash outlier
Among the eight siblings
All equally matched