Tagged: love

every year, dad prunes

every year, dad prunes
mama’s azalea bushes
carefully so that

they become perfectly rounded
buns well before mother’s day
.
20210509:2100
y

in the dream after

in the dream after
the dream that is just before
waking, bamboo soup,

the way mom cooks it at home,
a memory for the journey
.
20210506:2143
y

on the first day of

some days i lose you

some days i lose you
to the unexplainables –
it takes two to let

time slip between the doodads,
get caught on the thingamajigs
.
20201229:0108
y

circumstance is a

circumstance is a
word that takes up
space on the page
that flaps around
in your mind.
the truth of the
matter is
if circumstances
were any
different, we
would still
find ourselves
here, hands tied,
longing for
the sake of
longing
.
20201229:0052
y

no one belongs to

no one belongs to
no one else – we recognize
this in loss, pain, in

separation two days before
christmas in a pandemic
.
20201223:1450
y

perhaps more

perhaps more
than any of it
all, more than
education and
income brackets,
more than
compatibility and
the stars, more
than all the
coincidences
and preferences,
is the comfort
of shorthand
and shortcuts.
here’s to the
ninety-percent of
the things i don’t
say that still make
their way to you
.
20201222:1711
y

we’ve been here before –

we’ve been here before –
six days before christmas and
not yet home – somehow,

it feels different, homeward bound
plays in the distance, with teeth
.
20201219:1050
y

mom and dad shuttle

mom and dad shuttle
the loom back and forth across the
fabric of our youth,

adolescence, adulthood – a
selvage against unravelings
.
20201215:1922
y

perhaps nothing good

perhaps nothing good
ever comes from an over-
seas phone call – the same

immigrant stories – reasons
to come home, reasons to stay
.
20201209:2351
y