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I skim, anyway, the outdated.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 …
Broken Sonnets with Apology for Simile
Forgive me when I tell you I survive
the year in review. You can’t tell who is
under the stitching of her purpled cheek—