By the time I kissed someone I liked, I was good at it. Pillows, posters of Peter Frampton, record albums with David Cassidy on their covers don’t kiss back, but you can press your lips […]
Tag Archives: poem
thirty-year-itch sonnet
My husband’s and my love affair began in November of 1981 or 2—I’ve forgotten, but does a year really matter when we’re talking about a relationship that has spanned about three decades? We’re still together, […]
once more to the attic
For the past couple of years, I’ve been writing what I call the Facebook Poems. I ask, as a status update, for my friends to submit words, and each supplies one until I cut the […]
the spot on the wall
part two For breakfast Monday morningI cook my daughter oatmeal perfect ratio of salt to sugar to oatsserved with teaspoon, splash of creambecause I am a bad motherout of milk since Friday. I scrub the […]
a poem about life during wartime—in the spring
things in the road driving home from the marketprime fillet and avocadosin bags beside hershe sees a thing in the road—a thing in the road is always a bombthat detonates the momenther car makes a […]
fall’s fabric
fall’s fabric the fabric of fall is a narrow gleaming stripbetween bloom and detritus,at once fresh and frayed.autumn is weaver, seamstress, singer.she is the gleeand the lament.birds and squirrels scavenge the yardfor scraps we’ve sewn—swinging […]
fortune teller
Lest you think I’m playing countless rounds of Bejewelled Blitz and neglecting my writerly duties, I thought I’d make a quick appearance as sort of a placeholder while I wait for inspiration. Recently on Facebook, […]
crOw
O, a long winterwatching the crowsballet dancerson the wind O, out the windowonly place she goescarried safelyon their wings but they won’t share their secretsshred all the evidencethey won’t grant her wishes O, e minorthe […]
lunatic fringe
This old poem about knitting and unknitting, pulling together and coming undone, seems to suit me right now. I’m whipping yarns into a frenzy while I’m stuck in a chair and using the knitting to […]
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