Re entry

Grey Bed Sheets

I close my eyes and see
my mother at my age, two
girls following close behind,
her with dark long lovely hair
and tired eyes.

There are a million small questions
that may not have a true or clear or
simple answer.

My sleep deprived brain
has to be reminded to
not wait for clarity –
just do
the rest will come


It is near but not yet daybreak.
I open the front door and walk
out into the dark. Tree frogs
hop wildly out of my way
as they too apparently
ventured out into
the damp night.

The simple is sacred
I see so clearly in the
quiet of the early morning
alone with my baby daughter.

We are as we should be
sleepy and smiling
together atop
grey bed sheets.

Soon to be published in Switch (The Difference) Anthology by Kind of a Hurricane Press

Without Supper or Understanding

As a child of perhaps 5,
before I knew what a
cliché or a lie was,

my best friend and I
hopped over my backyard fence
to follow the trail of a rainbow which
was clearly landing nearby.

We followed and followed,
but it continued to get away from us.

Eventually a nice woman stopped us
and called my mother.

We both went to sleep that night
without supper or much understanding
of the days events.