Even after the rain,
summer storms seem to hang
just above the trees
that have stopped their swaying,
conscious of the thick quiet. 

To be a child, left behind
Dad’s run off to Mexico

So do as you please
have plenty of sugar
but don’t watch tv

Mom’s working and sad
Big brother’s kinda mean
but he’s got your back
and a most excellent promise

the bicycle a symbol
of progress and freedom
the phone, another invention
to put us in touch

Frogs absorb the world through their skin
Their hearts under threat from dissection and chloroform
just like in Black Stallion
Our hero knows to free them

“Is he OK?”
“He’s feeling everything”
and Elliot is too
and little Gertie
in real life abandoned and abused

42 years later, Mathison’s still not heeded
What is it about the world
which still doesn’t understand
The power of feeling and the power of love

John Williams score creates so much emotion
and when the bicycle gang rides into the sky
our hearts soar
once again, for Brotherhood and freedom
but also for trusting those feelings

One thing about that movie
besides giving two men
the most illustrious careers-
It sold a lot of Reeses
and it probably stopped children
from dissecting live creatures in school
after 1982

I wrote another poem but
It may not have gotten my point across
Maybe it’s because it’s lost 
Behind a cloud of thick, invasive thoughts
And I’ll keep this short as possible–
I used to escape them by all and any means,
Drugs, sex, food, and/or sleep
And I promise that all I’ve ever wanted
Is a few minutes of quiet and peace
So I’ve found some time to write it out
I guess there’s that, at least

I’m brushing fluoride on my teeth
     And thinking of my favorite hygienist who gave it to me –
     I like her because she let me escape before the dentist came
     With a TED talk about chipping out my silver fillings
     And replacing them with her new car I mean crowns 
     I don’t believe in looking for trouble and my hygienist knows
     Unless they hurt me, I will leave them alone and that’s fair

     Then I think of my grandmother and the Alzheimer’s
     And the fluoride – for a minute I consider Ramifications but
     She didn’t have anyone painting fluoride on her teeth
     And still was not spared and how again maybe
     I should not go looking for troublesome things to worry about
     And how the hygienist whose name I should know by now said
Paint it on at night and sleep. It’ll brush off in the morning. 

I believe 
for no other reason 
than knowing 
what I know 
that at one point 
in the great expanse 
a cataclysmic galactic 
white hot flash 
tore us apart 
send us spinning 
lost in the void 
and it’s taken us this long
to find our way
to this rock
to struggle against 
things that don’t matter
and finally be able
to look back up at the sky
toward the birth canal
of it all
wonder why 
anyone has the audacity 
to believe that 
anything matters 
than the moment happening 
right now

I’ve been avoiding looking at what day it is

Worried you’re almost over,

I’ve never thought about my favorite time

But I think it’s you

Orange and pink sunsets,

A few cool nights

Sunny days that last forever

Lake water that makes you never want to dry off,

Ferris wheels and funnel cakes

Writing poetry on a picnic table

Hikes through the mountains,

And day long road trips

No deadlines, no jackets,

Only a few days of rain

Your morning breeze smells like hope,

And your grass is the perfect green

You’re my Mammaw’s middle name,

And I’d like to think this is why

Maybe one day I’ll pass that on,

Wildflowers bloom like crazy

Love is all around

The mourning doves sing your songs,

And the kids are all home from school

The windows down,

And ice cream that’s never tasted so good

Lunch on a patio,

And laughter fills the air

Pride fills the town,

And concerts boom loud

You are a work of art

That I never want to put down

Thank you for being you, June

What is poetry but
breath entering my body,
then exiting in exhale?

What I am but breath and
words on the page
capturing a moment I felt alive?

What is life
but a collection of
moments?

Every time it storms or rains
I have to find a way to prevent
water from finding its way
into my garage.
It’s a new problem. 
Before, there was a tree,
a tree that created a natural
barrier, but also caused
destruction of my back
concrete patio with its roots.
I can’t decide which is worse
but I sure would love
to not have a damaged patio
or water in my garage.
Thinking about a solution
is as heavy as a tree or a flood.

KW
6/26/24

I

At the iced window
I exhale on frozen glass
the bluebird mobile
spins over your baby bed
empty of all as I am

II

The red bean bag chair
is where I would have nursed you
same as your brother
with breasts full of milk now dry
I keen with the winter wind

swift songs of voltage 
for the vigilant to hear.
be still – hear the noise
beneath the white noise machine?
Crazy-making as silence.