The Tale of La Llorona
I was born with one eye open / on the back of my head.
Naming Them
Names of number, or of no consequence,
Names held dear, or to the least offence,
Names he’d weighed, had tried, and counted
Married to Amazement
The man I married sat next to me
after our wedding, October light pouring in
over dusty pews as he loosened his tie
and sipped from a cup of apple cider,
closing his eyes to savor the taste.
Ten Sloppy Haiku of Ordinary Life
Magazines in the doctor’s
Waiting room are never current.
I skim, anyway, the outdated.
The New Year Makes a Request
It wants us to stop wishing for peace
like it’s the one guarding some goldmine
of surrender or compassion …