so I brought my writer wife
(prominently pregnant)
to the hospital
and on her bed, she screamed:
"weren't" "hasn't" "couldn't" "shan't"
"aint" "hadn't" "you're" "isn't"
"aren't" "didn't" "wasn't"
"who's?" "what's?" "he's" "she's"

The doctors were confounded
and they turned to me and they said:
"What the hell is she doing?"

And I replied with double speed
and a violent sense of urgency:
*"Don't you know?
She's having contractions -
she's a writer"

A teachers heart is one of learning.
Of constant modification.
Lending pieces of it at the sound of a child's voice.

What is not seen  
Are the broken parts.
The times when my heart falls out of my chest.

My child, I am sorry
My child, you don't deserve it
My child, here is safe

A heart of protection.
Showing each student their worth
Value more valuable than the words of this poem

Without you my child
My heart
Would simply

collapse

Summer is associated with social outings
Ice cream and heat
Yet winter holds all of the ice we would need
The warmth of our cuddled flesh
Is no match for July at mid-day
Many a life is created during long, blustery nights
Celebrated when the sun is at it's peak
I cannot help but despise February's numb
Although it is in that distance from feeling where I hurt the most
I thought living in a land without much change would cure
I was wrong
The last breath of your snow
*Follows wherever I go

I remember how bright you shined
Silver linings do exist

I just want to lay here
Wallowing in your loss

Slithering smooth seduction spans synchronizing sacred satin sheets*

The letter S
Has much power over our hormone driven lives
*** and Sadness
Being two that drive us/hinder us
The most
Why not spiral out, keep going
See where the end takes us
Our comparison to every single thing that we know or have thought of
Is relative and personal
Each experience unique in that you experienced it
Speculation drives our curious natures to question
To create
*What will inspire you today?