dad left
for his second tour of duty
on my third birthday

mom kept
a jar full of jelly beans
on the living room coffee table

every night
she gave me one to eat, saying
"when these jelly beans
are all eaten up,
dad will come back home"

sometimes
i would sneak another,
to help dad come home sooner

one night
the phone rang
and i watched mom
wipe away a tear
as she filled
the jar
back
up

My skin dries out in winter
My nail-beds crack and bleed
So I reach for the lotion that
My fingers really need

But if lotion soothed each part of me
That was no longer whole
I'd squeeze it all out in my hands
And rub it on my soul

Ominous clouds roll in.
I hear the crack of thunder.
"Not to worry," the youngest pipes up.
"We’ve always made it home, before."

Yes, but…
For as long as I can remember,
We've only ever had
Blue skies!
Sunshine!

What a streak!
Such luck!
Now, I'm not so sure.

How can you be expected
To make it through the storm
When you’ve never
Sailed a windy day?

Ain't nothing humerus about it.

I'm a tiny blade of grass
In a meadow, all alone
Nobody comes to visit me
Nobody calls my phone

Oh, if I could make a friend
This tiny blade of grass would cheer!
Hey, this must be my lucky day
'Cause look:
Here comes a deer!

lamplight bathes
the empty street
and the constant
tick-tick-ticking
of my bicycle's chain
soothingly
fills
the silence

As autumn trees all shed their leaves,
I’d like to place them back
One by one, and watch the sun
Who fears the moon’s attack.

He’s chased all day and finds a way
To hide his light at dusk.
‘Til farmers wake he takes a break,
Then flee again, he must.

Time goes fast and seasons pass,
My friends, I wish you luck.
I watch the sky, the moon goes by;
I think she’s catching up.

friends exchange
knowing looks and nods
i wish i could hide
shrivel up
disappear
doesn't matter anyway...

i'm invisible

night fell
too quickly today

it won't be long...
the last leaf will surrender
as the first snowflake spirals in

I need to get this off my chest…
It’s making me cough.

I sit on a bench by the water, alone.
Old couples silently stroll by,
young men run on
with their collies and yellow labs,
and children race
down the fine gravel path.

Even the ducks
that come to say hello
do not linger.
They bob away
and don’t look back.  

I walk to the edge of the water
and crouch down,
looking for a skipping rock.
I wonder…
Have all the best ones
already been skipped?  
I throw a few;
they don’t jump
more than twice.

I head back to the bench
and watch a family of four
stopped by the boulders
bordering the shore.
Dad snaps a picture of his wife and near-grown kids.
“Would you like a photo with the four of you?” I offer.
Dad grins.
“We haven’t had one of those in years!”
I smile and take the photograph.
They thank me
and carry on their way
down the fine gravel path.