You told me once when we talked about the things we carried
That I was a little too vague
And I thought then, and still do now
That it's because I'm a little too vague
The things I carry aren't set in stone
They are abstract and unsure and hard to put to words
They are feelings and thoughts only half-formed
They are like lines of a poem never quite heard
So, I carry the snippets of long-he...

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His words could become sharp as corners

And trap you there

Flailing in his grasp

They could pinch your skin

Until you cried

And cried

Throughout your shifts

They could catch your wrists and stop you

From moving on

From moving

They could lock the doors, no leaving

They could shame you and shrink you

They could come flying in from an open window,

A buzzing phon...

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Glowing blue sky without a cloud
50 degree F or so
Greeted me and the brown pitbull
yesterday
I said out loud, March third,
and it looks like Spring is springing--
Bird song was louder, and hope
was in the air

Flakes of icy precipitation with a slate sky
25 degrees
the sound of pellets against my jacket
accosted me today
It is my custom to audibly say the date
When I take the dog ou...

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