Monday, June 20, 2016
Today I opened a box of winter coats
And although it's almost unbearably hot
I put the plaid one on
I thought about giving it away
As I stare a strange hot summer in the face
But I can't quite turn that page
It's been only two months
Since I stood beneath slow falling snow
And I'm just not ready to let go.
Friday, June 10, 2016
Friday, April 15, 2016
Rolling green travels farther than I can see
The truck is pulling my life forward quickly
With all the things I thought I would need
I am finding what I need is behind me
But what I need is in front of me too
Because I must keep moving
But what I also need is you.
Written as I travel through Texas toward my new home.
Friday, January 8, 2016
I'm not your sleeping pill or your shot of vodka
And I am certainly not your mother.
I finally threw your shirt away - after years
Only to discover your voice in my ear
Shirt is gone. I thought. And I turned without a tear.
That was it. I thought. The last letting go.
So I wiped my hands clean.
Then my phone rang from a number I didn't know.
You acted as though you were never gone.
How bold, you are selfish - but this you know.
But I did excitedly say, hello.
Then you appeared at my door
Because I left it wide open.
Now you seem to think you are welcome.