You scare us, sir
You’re way too wise
And barely old
We can’t compete
But we infer
With small surprise
You’re far from cold
And slightly sweet.

Dear god, please end
This dumb, cruel joke
You’re strong as hell
You can’t be sick
Please mend, please mend
What illness broke
Please make it well
Once more, a brick.

David, you remind me of what’s true—
In me, in life, of math and curves.
What all our winding actions show:
The over-arching point.
My sight clears when I gaze at you;
You’re deep embedded, thought, skin, nerves
Combine to love you, let love grow
And bind me, cell to joint.

Justice doesn't bleed, or gasp
It stopped fighting long ago
Arms first in chains, then swinging
Were raised to no avail
And now are crossed upon its chest
It weeps, though.
That's the one good sign
A living, broken thing might stand
For bodies at rest can defy the odds
Move again, and rise

My darling husband, hours away
You dream of me, as I do you
Such comfort isn’t cold.
With borrowed strength I bear the day
Remembering each breath I drew
Within your arm’s safe fold.

I’ll never be an army bride
And don’t pretend my lot’s the same
This distance is finite.
As I live in the world’s far side
In general I’m glad I came
But missing you is right.

It’s right to miss the one you wed
Beneath a canopy of wood
And blue-dyed, hand-bleached sheet.
Our first official home and stead
In marriage, for the bad and good.
By linking lives, complete.

I’m gratified I’ll feel your touch
Not long from now, but still not soon
As I would wish it be.
Your voice and words have given much
Across my night, your afternoon
Your love is me. In me.

I was in the country when the city skyline fell
And in the city when the gunman stepped out
Imposing his malevolent, brute will
I thought, Dear God, there’s no way this ends well
There’s more blood not yet shed, I’ve little doubt
So many still, so many angry still

Twenty young children in their secondary home
As well as six women who share my calling
Had their futures clipped, eclipsed, made naught
We cried, we played, as Nero mourned his Rome
Their bodies fell, are now forever falling
What god would let them stay uncaught?