wind chimes thrashing

leaves being dragged down the street

sometimes pushed

the house is gasping

curtains inhale into my room

doors exhale in their jambs

the windows are wailing

toys in the backyard

chairs knocked over

even limbs of trees are snapped

but i am safe in my bed

for now







thinking about the hard times my daughter has been going through has been compelling me to remember back when she was a young girl and recall all the times im certain i was a bad mother and there are a lot of times to recall but this one thing i cant forget  that i hate so much  that i loathe with my entire being  and is in my eyes the beginning of the end of her innocence  a time we were all going for a family walk  she and me her brother and dad  and she comes up next to me and slips her ten year old hand in mine and i took my hand from hers  i felt uncomfortable and embarrassed because of my own past and i said no you are too old to be holding your mothers hand and she said why and i said youre not a little kid anymore youre old enough to walk without holding my hand and she said okay and skipped ahead at least thats how i remember it  but i wish i could take it back  i wish i wasnt so ignorant about love back then   i wish i was better than that


in summer mountains just look green from a distance

you only see tree tops all laced together like theres no space


you feel all dreamy and lost in the lushness

as you get closer you can see the earth underneath

and the rocks and the trunks standing at an angle

when youre right on the mountain you look up at the treetops

and wonder if anyone can see you

waving at the clouds

and smiling at the sun

end of drought

you found new places in me

like flood waters

you slipped through cracks

and made your own paths

and filled up every

empty space

you soaked into me

and sprouted seeds

and now im


spring fever

the dirt walls

in the basement

are thawing

and the smell

of worm

and beetle


fertilizing the soil

drifts up between

the floorboards

in wispy tendrils

climbing over my brain

last day of march

sparrows on saturated branches

shaking off the strings of melted snow drops

squirrels eatin up apple peels

under the trees

snow then sun then puddles again

my aching bones lose their minds

the grass is brown and green today

my hands are blue and red