Under Glass

They styled my hair, painted makeup,
arrayed me in a crystal box.
I pretended to sleep, but
I was listening – yes,
I heard you. With that
mouth, you’d kiss me?
I can break

(an attempt at a nonet, kind of, maybe. JUST KIDDING APPARENTLY IT IS FINE)



Storing Summer

It’s only cool enough to walk come sunset,
mosquitoes buzzing tinny like the wires
overhead. Evading thorns, we pluck berries

from summer-warmed vines. Peaches, these blackberries,
and the strawberries picked out back at sunset –
they drip summer taste, sweet as sun, sharp as wires.

I thread each tart-sweet memory on wires
like beads: each velvet peach, the ruby berries,
even the whining mosquitoes at sunset.

Come autumn rains, each sunset strung on wires
Will wreathe remembered warmth, sweetness, and berries.

A tritina, my first.


Ghazal: Light

To my monochrome life you radiate new light.
First stumbling, now flying, we dance into light.

I’ll stay, sheet-warmed, beside you, our bed an isle,
our room our soft seclusion of peace-hued light.

I’ll crumble looming mountains to ease your path,
rip curtains off muted stars to lend you light.

We rolled our dice, fingers crossed for perfection.
Tired of waiting, we claimed our overdue light.

Now, pen-clasping, I record my promises
to dance on hand-in-hand through darkness, through light.

(I rarely do poems for yeahwrite but the ghazal was too tempting.)