August 2009
30 posts
Franklin, PA
She stood and smiled at her husband, silently reached out and barely touched his hand with her own, made eye contact when her daughter dropped her jaw as the sun set over the ocean and made an ever-so-slight splash that very few people ever hear in their entire lives, or so she told her daughter before it happened, when she and the rest of her family stood on the sand in the final act of their...
i have been married for almost 7 years and we have...
Getting Old
Today for the first time ion my life I felt old. I was driving along the 101, my child in the rear bench seat of my old Jeep, and he asked me what high school had been like for me. He just turned thirteen, and will be entering that experience for himself in just a few months. I didn’t quite know how to respond. The person I had been, the one that I though I had known so well, was long...
Last Weekend
Two Buck Chuck
on a porch in South Pas.
Rain drums above us—
nature’s percussion.
Izzy, the dog, weaves
in and out of legs.
Kids disappear
for quick hits of weed.
Lily-Boo sings
Billie Holiday.
You and I share
Shiraz as if it
were words, each
sip a sentence.
You should have kissed me.
Carry My World
GRACE
The most beautiful place I’ve been Is somewhere I’ve yet to be With hills and trees and gardens Sitting quietly waiting for me. Once I find it I’ll know I should have been there all along. I’ll sit and wonder about this place And its sad, strange little song. The sun will rise and set on me, But surely I will not mind, For once I have found my haven here The last thing...
Listen
Over the Edge
Two Poems
Love. Skies open up and gives way to the light. Stars shine brighter and the moon is twice its normal size. Laughter gets louder and smiles glow more than ever. Eyes connect when they reach each other from across the room. Comfort is found in the warmth and embrace of lovers reuniting. People watch envious of the love these two share with each other. This love grows old. This love grows. Love...
Cemetery Visit
The grey sky and its misty haze hangs so eerily low that all reds turn to a dull brown, all blues turn to a weathered black and all yellows look more like a muted orange and green mixed together. Trees are drooping and sad, like they want to be inside. We are driving south down the Esplanade, the main drag of our town, and there’s not many other cars on the road. The people in the cars that we...
