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while you were out

13 Jun

i left piles, made messes, but always closed the blinds.
i ran errands, a few miles, and the air conditioner plenty.

i spoke softly, around noon, to the first person i saw each day.
sometimes the mailman or a phone call, once accidentally at the morning news.
you would have laughed, too,
at me and the faux pas.

i stayed up later, unsure, of the creaks and the whir of the fan.
the sound machine sounds different from your side of the bed.

i watched t.v. – too much – seasons and seasons of a latest addiction.
i cried for fictional texas strangers & jumped at the neighbor’s bike starting.
i took out the recycling.
i walked alone.

i was mostly fine, with just enough time, to think myself under a rock.
especially at night,
when the stillness settled thick,
i wondered myself to sleep.

where were you?
what time was it?
were you comfortable and at peace?
what new vistas would change the way you see while i sleep?

as i checked the lock or shopped for one,
i couldn’t help but smile . . .
for the minute by minute truths your awayness brought home:
how much i am me,
home is home,
and this life is as sweet as it is,
because you’re mine.


posted in anticipation of a late night airport pick up after 2 weeks away.

the perfect pairing

7 May

click for original photo credit

few taste buds can distinguish food city’s stock from weigels’,
or guess the time each cup has been living on aisle three.
only a handful alive can tell the season’s changing by the distribution of chocolate on thumb and index finger.

but my momma can.

it’s a mad science and a sweet, sticky art: this reese’s tasting game.

and she taught me everything i know.

after soccer, between errands, shuffling sisters to and fro,
between beeps of the grocer’s gun, we would share a side-eyed smile.
as the package slipped stealthily on the belt, she’d say with a wink,
“no need to bag that. we’ll take it from here.”

never a treat, but a duty,
our taste-testing endeavors spanned years of growing up,
a serious commitment to time together and the art of a long-term laugh.

from k-mart to kroger, no cup was safe.
all must be tasted, tested, treasured.

to date, our findings remain hidden,
locked away where only inside jokes may enter,
in a shack on the kiwanis’ adopted highway.

the job is never done, this we know in our deep sugared bones.
just yesterday, rumors reached me of a strange occurence,
a kentucky man found jelly in his cup,
a blasphemous invasion of all things p.b.c.

should this claim need further investigation,
i have a team to recommend.
in fact, i think we’d better start training our taste buds again, right away,
just in case.

happy mother’s day to my mentor, the master maker of reasons-to-buy-chocolate, and my favorite partner in all things laugh-until-you-cry.

i love you, mom.

on sisters

18 Apr

two of many

one if by marriage,
two if by blood,
a handful by years in the same stew soaking.

joined by match-fit necklace, then rings finger and phone.
uncovered on accident, now weaving webs alongside.

to all of mine, i toast with words and wishes.
dipped all in chocolate,
the only best way.

one can never have too many sisters.


note: when looking for perfect sister pictures, one finds far too many kardashians and olsens. i have beautiful sisters and sister-friends and wish to fill the webs with their pictures instead. permission slips forthcoming.