You can’t go home again. And things will never be the way they were. Those memories will always remain The ones that painfully birthed you Into a new version of life And, standing there, you feel your fingers reach, Almost without calculated thought, Towards that life you had “before,” Elusive, though, because you can’t goContinueContinue reading “We can’t have the “before””
Tag Archives: poetry
A toast
Here’s to a summer Like the summer Of the girl I saw A few days back, Making her way downtown (As the song goes). Maybe fourteen years old, She moved slowly down the sidewalk With a friend, both in sandals and yoga pants. They walked with enough determination That I knew there was a destinationContinueContinue reading “A toast”
On the eve of the summer solstice
Is there anything better than coming home too-late on a summer’s night because the friends were too fun and the conversations too rich and the night just-warm-enough? And is there anything better than your skin being kind of dirty from a mix of the sweat of the day and the mosquito repellent you spritzed onContinueContinue reading “On the eve of the summer solstice”
On discerning
If you and I were both traveling vagabonds, but purposeful, more like pilgrims, but I was maybe older and more accustomed to traveling, and we met each other one night after dinner, over a fire in the back half-room of a hostel that overlooked a spindly but sincere garden, with dying embers and dying voicesContinueContinue reading “On discerning”
If you give a girl a springtime
We should go camping. For a whole week, maybe (what luxury!)and hike everyday And do handstands on mountains And watch stars from under blankets And bring all our friends. And speaking of friends– Why, we should have them over for dinner! Fresh, spring dinner from the new produce from the local markets Soups and quichesContinueContinue reading “If you give a girl a springtime”
On falling
I spent Holy Week in a mad rush of waiting and then bustling and then back again, for early mornings and long nights in a cavernous church that was now full of flowers and palms and then later stripped of all such frivolity and then later filled with flowers upon flowers again. The sacred prayers.ContinueContinue reading “On falling”
Small winter poem 13 | On Valentine’s Day
I was in line at an inner-city CVS to buy chocolates for a work event when I heard them. “Come ON,” a voice was saying to his friend, “just take one with one of the roses! You’re taking FOREVER! We’re never going to get out of here.” And I glanced over. Two teenage guys, inContinueContinue reading “Small winter poem 13 | On Valentine’s Day”
Small winter story 11 | Travelin’ belt
So, I had this one belt, my favorite belt, and favorite because it was exactly my size and leather and kind of on the thick side for a lady-belt, but still small enough to fit around my waist and sneak through the belt loops. I think I bought it secondhand one day, at a churchContinueContinue reading “Small winter story 11 | Travelin’ belt”
Small Winter Poem 10 | Dance parties
“How are your babies?” I asked, to him with the little girls. “Nell,” he sighed and looked at me, “I swear that every night she looks at me and asks, ‘Can we have a dance party?’…So we do…every night’.” I laughed too. Because I don’t ask anymore. I’m too old. I just decide. Dance party.ContinueContinue reading “Small Winter Poem 10 | Dance parties”
Small Winter Poem 9 | Bravery
What color, Do you think, Is the color of courage? Maybe it’s just the bright yellow Of the sun Peeking through a dungeon of grey When all the world is winter. Maybe it is the delicate white Of the tiny flowers Who push through the concrete Insisting on blooming in my crazy city. Little, small…butContinueContinue reading “Small Winter Poem 9 | Bravery”
Seashell Nell 