january 30th, 2012 - “portrait.”
“isn’t it something…”
shoulders arched,
head tilted back
and staring at the wall
“…how i can still see
her picture hanging here,
how i can still feel
her looking at me
even though she’s gone?”
january 29th, 2012 - “post.”
it’s been five years,
and all i have
to show for it
is a fading memory
of you sitting
against the wall,
staring at me,
hiding,
underneath my bed.
january 28th, 2012 - “bingham park playground.”
in the dreams i have
where i can jump over buildings
and talk to birds,
no one ever calls it flying.
but, if we could jump,
just that little extra bit
and break through some membrane
and take off into the sky,
and promise,
to write letters from the clouds
so we can tell everyone
what they taste like,
if we could do that…
january 27th, 2012 - “untitled.”
of all the nights
to be stuck up
late,
i chose this one,
and I’ll have to live with it.
january 26th, 2012 - “660am.”
i couldn’t decide
whether i’d rather
listen to rain
or
sports radio
when i was sitting
in the car
and waiting
for the bus
to bring you home,
but the wind picked up,
and the first clap
of thunder
made my decision for me.
january 25th, 2012 - “afghan.”
it was difficult
to see that afghan for the first time
hanging in a window
after only existing in photographs,
to keep the shade in
or, drenched in memories
to burn up in the sun;
to evaporate what’s left of her
in wrinkles,
a stain,
just out of reach for cat claws,
and the downstairs neighbors.
january 24th, 2012 - “tea.”
what are you
hinting at,
tired eyes?
where are you
looking?
drink some
more;
i’ll be
right back.
january 23rd, 2012 - “storm door.”
the storm door
to the back porch
never closed right
after you ran through it
“because the neighborhood dog
chased you home
from the bus stop.”
it never slammed
the same way:
that thunderous clang
from over-greased hinges
and the broken hydraulic piece,
still never managing
to catch the latch
on the first hard pull.
…i never did try
bending it back into place.
