I can’t sleep
every thing he said
swirls around
in a foamy mess
like clouds
looks like rain
Advertisements
Tag: micropoetry
awake
the birds are early
they must know something
besides the dark
how peaceful to listen
to know God hears
every lonely chirp
from my heart
feels like summer here
sweating all our regrets
drinking gallons of hope
sunshine breakfast
anxiety and bacon
Bach over easy
complicated
family history
the slapdash years
the hopes
baked into the pasta
the worries
on our sleeves
until the rains came
rain in my hair
hanging in my face
reading the new gravestone
next to hers
20 years
feels like yesterday
how do you teach poetry
shall you instruct
how to have a soul
in chairs, facing front
apple on the table
will you tell me how to feel
in alphabetical order
you would do well
to hold class
at the edge of the volcano
the center of the storm
cedar crypts
Like a cedar crypt
they lie in bags, All
their childhoods
wrapp’t amongst lavender
and dust, and
the scent of every Christmas
Each disappointment
sanitized
with the colors of quilts
The squares of each dress
every drape
all our lives
again
with the birds
he says
well
they are still talking
and it is magic
every time
say what you will
about Pop-Tarts
but I never saw one
burn down a building
I never
saw a Twinkie
crash a car
or give me the finger
on my birthday
