Mountain me
that I can’t move.
The same mountain
I’ve been exploring for 28 years,
climbing, falling, and surviving. 
I’ve seen sights to behold
But when will I know that I’ve reached the top of it all? 

My gentle grown son,
I see the age in your eyes, 
your soft weariness.

I walk beside you-
my season is darkening,
my heart is the same.

I can’t lift you up- 
engage in life on your terms, 
you must not look back. 

Keep moving along-
the path we made together
can form a new branch.

Children can follow
tramping down the overgrowth, 
making their own way. 

When I close my eyes,
I find myself picturing you
with me. So I keep them
open, until the sun forces 
me to blink again. 

longest task i’ve done
in a while i’m happy to
have been here this month

Pacing in sunshine,
the sky bleeds light
to stain my clothes
with flecks of glitter,
of sunbeam distilled,
as I am perfumed by
vanilla salt, honeyed 
sweat misting the red
of my shoulder blades.

the sun was just enough 
to make the day lighter
in this new june heat

a patch of grass shines
in the corner of the angle
of the gray building

a corporate sundial
dictating where the short
midday rest may be

i pivot my slack and
jacket body into its silver
sliver, forgotting an 

overdue call, an email
required to send to say
only a sentence

if there is any extraordinary
in this life, it is the place
where warmth fosters a dream

I remember the day when I was about 13,
riding in the backseat
of my best friend’s parents’ car when her mom asks
“Shannon says your grandparents live in Western, KY, where do they live?”
my answer was “Ballard County”
“What are their names?”
“Rudd and Fannie Viets”
I was astonished at her next words
“Your Grandfather and Shannon’s are first cousins”
And just like like, my bestie is my cousin.  
Of course, we had always been related, we just had no idea
That was over 40 years ago and she is still one of my closest friends
She is still my cousin, too

oh how i love my pink velvet couch. 

you don’t get pink velvet couch without 
moving outside of new circle. 
moving outside of new circle means
leaving the co-op. 
leaving the co-op means
saying goodbye to walking to tahlsound. 
saying goodbye to walking to tahlsound means
missing the neighborhood cats. 
missing the neighborhood cats means
finding a new walking route. 
finding a new walking route means
that i moved. 
moving means no more apartment. 

no more apartment because 
i couldn’t be there anymore. 
not without you or our stupid little life. 
no more apartment meant
no more couch that we got for the home we were building. 
no more couch where i held you while you cried. 
no more couch for cats to curl and dog to disturb. 
no more couch worn with your elbow, my hips. 

you don’t get pink velvet couch without 
posting ‘couch for sale. well loved. comes from a home with pets.”

oh how i loved that couch. 

Thousands of nails on the pole,
Bent and broken, rusted, old,
People pass without a thought,
Nails breaking, metal hot,
One from a lost cat,
One for a “for sale”,
Free steaks,
Yard sale,
Phone numbers,
Nighttime entertainment,
They all lived here,
Pierced by these nails,
Torn without a thought,
Weathered and broken,
These nails stay,
Preaching their tales to the ghosts.

The moon, it’s a lightbulb
over the basement stairs,
the pull-string hangs
in the middle of the room
just above, tip-toes to grasp
the tiny bell shaped weight
and it burns my retina
as la luz explodes.

How long did I search
before pulling the cord,
hands searched back and forth,
until it came on – la Luz.

Outside, I caught snowflakes on my tongue,
I stood shivering in the dark
afraid of the insides of my eyelids.
How I hoped that
the doctor’s new cure,
like La Luz, would save me from shadows.

viví para la luz del invierno
con la luz de mil criatales de hielo,
they were fairy rings in the winter sky.