You were the unyielding foundation
on which my life was built—
both the rock
and the hard place.
And after your full life, it fell to me
to bear your weight,
my boots trudging through
muck and mire,
toward your childhood home,
poured you into your singing stream,
swept away with the waves of time ,
made light once more—
at home, no more to leave

Sitting beside
our hollow box of loneliness,
holding vigil for
the time we lost,
who you were,
should have been,

gifts unwrapped, unseen.
This scraped-out shell—
laid bare
only after the goodbyes.
They always took pieces of you,
And I’ll bear the heaviest part

My privilege was a vehicle
For departure
Over the broken roads
That the MTA
Spent hours delivering me
Past gutted houses

Today Father Bob reminded
Our now creased faces
Among the velvet cushioned pews
In the space that
Paints our dreams
That we are forever indebted
To silent benefactors that paved our way
Out of West Baltimore

If he had remembered me
When we processed by
For the last time
I’d have told him
Of my life’s work—
for no one to feel inferior
Under the weight
Of borrowed dreams

For it is owed every soul
Traversing these roads

They say you cannot
journey home again
But you should
To confirm
How you left
In the first place

When I was dropped as a child
Into the lions den
It wasn’t a metaphor
It actually happened
I’ve scrapped and scraped
My fingers up the cement wall
Ever since.
Animals nipping at my heels

And so as it turns out everything up here is a predator too.

If you knew what escaped would you come any closer?
I’m all claws, teeth, and ready for you.

A festering tangle remains
With the weight of a cannonball
The bottom drops out
Since You extended kindness when I laid
Too broken
To bestow
It upon myself
And yet I exploded the way I do
With  those closest to me
Because as it turns out
You’re one of those people too

The evidence of our time together
Merely imprinted in our children’s first memories
We never turned the cameras around
While orchestrating their joy.
So simple it is to sever a thread unacknowledged
I never had a sister
I think it won’t sting
It burns

Armhairs prickling to attention
ringing builds
in your ears
this nightmare, returning,
once more

Yes,
the sun will rise again,
its rays will
warm some
more than others
in the midst of
this ever-darkening storm.

Breathe.
And resolve
To be the light
where the sun cannot reach

Wearing the remnants: shards of your discarded
         garments
Speeding through your neighborhoods and
       scoff as you walk your dog
Seated in your meetings but cannot
        open my mouth
The words that tumble forth will ruin me

I rise
Far too early
In the dark
Fold my pajamas
Make my bed
I don’t know what I am doing
With my life
But I know
It is not
Enough

The world is in front of me
I struggle to find my pitch
The tone to sing
Into the sunlight
So my lips remain closed
Sun at my back
As I float
Down the shore

You are shimmering satin
I’ve tended, mended, and woven
Each stitch whispered
Into patches of petals.
You unfurl
As vast translucent joy
Dappled light emerging
Belting an unbridled melody
A vision born from threads I’ve sewn