Denim works better
than satin to soothe me –
t-shirts and bobby socks
shoes I’ve outgrown.
Coffee stirs feelings
of times I spent running –
and I don’t need a sign
to find my way home.

Briar and sassafras –
two kinds of lover.
The one who keeps count
and the one who won’t care –
what’s on for breakfast
of worlds unforgiven.
The roof is still leaking
but it’s warm enough here.

For all that I’ve written
there are pages still waiting –
like the space on the dresser
pearls never laid.
Fruit jars and masons –
tho nothing much matches.
Lacey white linens
I’ve given away.

There are spoons
in the pantry
and uneven tapers –
gates rusted shut
by the way of the bed.
Old maps are kept by the door
in a basket –
and a box full of memory
sleeps neath my head.

Some I can’t touch
for forgetting the reasons –
I kept them at all
of the things that I can’t.

Heaven gets lost
at the mention of leaving –
and there are acres
of promise nobody owns.
Berries grow wild
by the fence (barely standing)
and summer plays hell
with my soul.

Jasmine and lavender
three kinds of daisies –
dried to the line
my blankets to bless.
Hardwood and heartache
are nobody’s business –
as a moment of weakness
to silence confessed.

Life all around
and most barely living –
who I am (someone)
with none to approve.
I’ll sit the night out
as the porch light is fading –
laugh til I cry
and talk til I’m blue.

From the place of my pillow
a view of forever –
and thirty six stars light the ways
I’ve become.

Was a time that I worried
what was thought – what was fated –
and traded (sometimes)
what of me (best) belonged.
But there’s more here
than being (somebody’s baby)
and letting go gave me
a time to hold on.
To what of me mattered
(tadpoles and twilight) –
truths to remember
long after I’m gone.

I rock when I weep
and sing when it’s raining –
I walk when I dream
past the woods (far enough).
Grace never fails
to remind me (of someone)
the girl that I was –
wears the woman I love.