The old masters were obsessed
with angles the shape of men and women,
draped with pastel pink or blue togas
as they dole out God’s grace.
I have no thought of taking his hand,
my face as uninterested as David
on the ceiling of that famous chapel.
But the fear of disapproval lingers,
chastisement for the ecstasy
of Saint Teresa, displayed
in polished marble next to
our bleeding savior and
his unblemished virgin mother.
Somewhere between this dichotomy,
a tooth breaks as God bites down
on an old fashioned salted caramel candy.   

We were all messy buns and sweet teeth 
those early mornings. 
We sat in that small crowded cafeteria
where we shared Betty Crocker’s 
rich and creamy frosting. 
We left our spoons licked and sticky. 
We were girls becoming women, 
sharing the bitterness and sweetness of it
once a month. 

Years stretched between us. 
There was a time we did not know one another. 
Now, we find ourselves all grown up. 
Grocery shopping together.
Cooking dinner.
Bumping elbows in your kitchen.
Your toddler laughs in the other room,
his little feet loud. 
Your dachshund steps around us
waiting for fallen crumbs. 

We discuss dessert:
What about turtle brownies? 
Ice cream is simple.
Or banana pudding? 
I’m in the mood for cake. 
With chocolate icing? 

We will always be girls together.

Listen to
the brakes
as they growl
like thunder 
rolling in from
a distance 

Pretend
it’s a testament 
to how far they
have taken you 
not a desperate
plea for help

Maybe one day
we’ll learn
love is pushing
something past its
limits without
letting it break 

There were five little kittens
left in a basket by the door;
one ran away, and
that left only four.  
 
Then one tipped the basket
and flung the others out;
and they ran behind the bushes
when my grandson gave a shout. 
 
But, all five came back 
for the saucer of milk.
What a surprise when we counted again,
six tiny kittens were slurping milk… and purring.

Meandering along one lane
roads through the mountains,
stopping in Sperryville ,
crossing the Independence, 
soaking up the deep green reflected
in the black river at Bailey’s Bridge. 

Among tall pines, a tranquil cemetery 
is blanketed in mosses and wild flowers,
yellow and orange sprinkled over 
Mobley and Reece, long gone yet 
brought to memory through dates and
ages, a Tiger Swallowtail visits briefly. 

We move on to the confluence of two
rivers, the Moose and Black creating
Lyon’s Falls, once used to power one 
of the many northern mills that once
employed many of the early members
of this now sparsely populated community. 

Back to camp on Schuyler Camp Road,
it is time for food and fire, memories 
and celebrations, the rain cooling the 
night, the wind singing us to sleep. 

6/19/25
KW

We: dreamt as
kids on Star Wars sheets–
held signs last
week that read
“I have friends everywhere”–
hold onto myth, hope

It took one second for the decision to be
made. If you didn’t get up when the alarm
went off and pushed through it all to make
it to the gym in the morning, where would
you be? Asleep. But you did. You got up and
put in the work before putting in more work
all day. It takes one second to make or break
a habit and you made the rewarding decision.

you’re worried about
if God watches you touch yourself
but there’s a satellite that just
recorded the longest lightning streak 
across states and nobody noticed

I finally realized that he was a thrifted canvas

A worn, slightly faded canvas

Protected all around by a chipped frame

A few dollars and some change

I needed it in my life

I painted over the parts I didn’t want to see

I used the colors that brought me joy

I hung it proudly where I could always see it

I spend hours staring at it

Convincing myself it’s true

a lamb lunged
ears but whispering bat’s wings,
ears but clydesdales bent upon 
                           balance beams,
worked to           a      c’est    mon   da da