Keep us close
with every contraction, conjunction, and
each oxford comma, crying out
for life
don’t leave us here
without the ink


it is not safe here
pummelled by your
slick use of syntax
the prose scrawled
across each window
every reflective lens
obscuring your eyes

If you were a poem
I would be an oxford comma
just as
you declared us

If I were locked in verse
you would be
exclamation point


there were the autumn trees the year we were in love, colors brighter than I had imagined under New England skies. And later, when I broke your heart. You broke mine soon after, tearing it apart

one year we missed the fall entirely, sliding from Labor Day straight into Christmas, unprepared for the onslaught–we were there but we were caught

then there was last year–when you opened your heart some and closed a wound. I’ll never forget, and always treasure, hoping you do not close it once more on those days when I am lost without measure

In November, the sun came out and got in my eyes, the joy of a cool morning after stepping from a furnace. Our leftovers from last Thanksgiving finding their way into a perfect day, trees shining, fluttering in a breeze

a month later, the winter wind cut through me like a filet knife–don’t be unkind, we all have weather and some coats are thin. I could see your eyes correcting my grammar (and punctuation)

and this morning, sun climbing through the fog and into a day, like no other that has gone before, but still feels familiar. Leaves. Sky. Hope. Littering. Leaping through hoops once you’ve set them on fire



Monday Random: Words

  • Words matter, and to me they matter probably more than people which is wrong– I know it’s wrong, so I’m working on that. I do feel guilty for saying that.
  • Words get propers from me because they kept me going between the ages of 10-20, and now they are saving my life.  I have to be grateful for that.
  • I was in the best, coolest conversation this weekend and I interrupted at an important juncture, taking the steam out of a good story I was hearing. I still feel badly about it. I would like to say something now to the storyteller and apologize, but that’s weird. I recognize it’s weird to agonize about it now. But I do want to be a better listener–

Continue reading “Monday Random: Words”