Cruiser, my jet black lab,
His cold nose always on my legs,
His drool smeared across my pants,
His happy dog smile when I got home.
He let me ride upon his back
When I was eight years old,
And chased me in the field
On sultry summer afternoons;
Swam after bottles I threw
Into Lake Beresford
And dropped them at my feet
Like a special gift.
How I wish Cruiser were here
instead of dead
Because a driver forgot to look.                                

standing in the hall against the
wall with my little brother, blown
like leaves against the wall by their
voices, my head like a pingpong ball
between the paddles of their anger;
I knew what it meant
to tremble like a leaf.

Cold with their wrath, I heard
the claws of rain
pounce. Floods
poured through the city,
skies clapped over me,
and I was shaken, shaken
like a mouse
between their jaws.

My mother never forgave my father
for killing himself,
especially at such an awkward time
and in a public park,
that spring
when I was waiting to be born.
She locked his name
in her deepest chest
and would not let him out
though I could hear him thumping.
When I came down from the attic
with the pastel portrait in my hand
of a long-lipped stranger
with a brave mustache
and deep brown level eyes,
she ripped it into shreds without a single
word, and slapped me hard.
In my sixty-fourth year
I can feel my cheek
still burning.

out for a movement,
the smell of danger lingering;
A sound as loud
as a firecracker blasts
through the air. Blood
all around. Slowly goes the
body, first the knees,
then the hands,
last the head, and its all
over like a proud bear
dropping on dry, hard ground. My
brother died because of drugs.

I will not play tug o’ war.
I’d rather play hug o’ war,
Where everyone hugs
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles,
And everyone wins.

My grandmother’s love
Was like a willow tree blowing in the wind,
Her kiss was like
A moist rose early in the morning.
My grandmother’s kindness was like
A baby lying on a sun-kissed blanket
under a pine tree;
Her personality was a secret
Which could not be kept.
My grandmother’s laughter was like
A zephyr blowing across the beach;
Her smile was like a tiny baby
Seeing his favorite toy for the first time.
Thank you, Nana, for being there
When I needed you the most.

My child is sleeping
And I sip sweet, smooth coffee
Over diaphanous bits of poetry—
Songs of life’s
Thousand delirious moments.
I— a woman of wild words—
Sit mulling over unfinished rhyme
By the dim stove light.
Words rain upon the page,
Cool crystalline words,
Pink and sad,
Misty and joyous,
While my child is sleeping.

See love rain
Like cool mist,
Sing like a frantic storm,
Dream like the languid moon.

See love rise
Like purple mountain peaks
And settle in your
Wary, bruised heart

Like fog nestles
Among the hills.