I wonder if you

Ever got to hold

the starlight in your eyes

In the palm of your hand 

When you left

I wonder if you

Spin candy floss

from passing clouds

And siphon cider

from the sun

I wonder if you 

Weave blankets from dusk

And yawn 

the colours of dawn

I wonder if you 

Shower in rainbows

And shake the colours 

upon waking flowers

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God, I know you’re good.

You’re gentle and you’re kind. 

You quiet the restless heart,

With words it cannot find.

You tether the most wayward souls,

Drawn away by the slightest breeze.

You answer the most daring questions,

With sovereignty and ease.

All you do is good,

It’s the only way you know how to be.

How else could the Lion

Befriend a sheep like me?

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My heart is hurting.

It can’t contain the pain.

It seeps like beads of sweat out of my body

And falls like drops of rain.

The rain soaks my shoes,

then bleeds through to the skin.

The cold of winter settles;

it settles once again.

I cannot save my mother,

Though she and I both hoped that I could.

But I’m afraid that a daughter’s love

Can’t always do the t...

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I remember the lines 

of your face.

the wrinkles around

your eyes

when you smiled.

the curves that

framed your

cheeks and lips

as you bared 

your teeth in

a cackle or two.

your cheeks bounced

with a slight poke

to your warm,

oily skin.

your lips chapped

on the bottom left

from you constantly

biting throughout the day.

your forehead,

red a...

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An empty room

Filled with bodies

Voices of different

Tones and pitches

And volumes.

Stifled cries

In the corners,

Whispered sentiments by the photos,

Muffled screams

From his mother

In the chair

Adjacent

To the giggles that

Came from

The pew of the casket

Where I laughed

With friends

As we reminisced

Of the days that

Were simpler.

Hands a...

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January fifth.
The black car is almost here.
I wait
and I remember:

Early morning, deep December.
Phone rings;
heart sinks;
today, I know, is the day.
Exit day, the expected day: the day to say goodbye.

A rush hour slow-slog through thin and sickly dawn.
Idiot-bright festive lights fail to sense the mood.
Mother in the back seat – quiet, watching, alone.

A red light river – a sto...

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"Why did it end that way?" she asked

when we spoke some years later

Two cups in we agreed

We couldn't find our way back

to who we wanted to be

It’s like our patched-up hearts

The bandages do come off

but they will never be the same

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