Tagged: first day

on the first day of

on the first day of

on the first day of
setting aside time off in
a pandemic, light

dances with shadow, guilt with
relief, shackles with freedom

on the first day of

on the first day of
spring, you
returned to us,
fatherless. there
are parts of us
that will dance
around recognizing
parts of you
because no one
wants to claim
a familiarity
to loss

on the first day of

on the first day of

on the first day of
autumn, dad’s hummingbirds are
still fighting over

every drop of deliverance,
a sugary endeavor

the first day of the

the first day of the
rest of our lives starts like a
simple bouquet – matched

and mismatched, friends and family,
until death do us part

the first of spring


on the first day of Spring, the sky
was busy covering the blue
banners with kisses, obscuring
the text with billowy lips
of honeydew sugar. the tenor
wind rose and faltered like
a heaving uncle letting go
of eight years of regret, knocking
over the paperweight
with a purposeful swipe.
on the first day of Spring, from way
above, twenty stories
into March, you made
a stack of clean borderless
sheets and pushed them right
out the opened window
to test our new beginning

the first breath of Spring
arrived today on our front
door steps. someone wrote
to say he was coming, but
we hardly expected to see
this young child
pulling on a lever
attached to a kaleidoscopic
pressure machine
cheerfully tipping it into
the greatest number
of colliding mirrors