They love us more than each other,
and follow us to the ends of the Earth,
happy as can be…
Family
here’s to the crick in your neck,
here’s to the knot in your stomach
you don’t remember tying,
here’s to the flutter in your veins…
Her shoulders
are slight, yet solid
under my hands,
she takes up so little…
Do you ever
feel the cold,
that not even blankets
your gran knitted…
When you must
be polite,
or mind your manners,
or some such societal…
we don’t celebrate
the blank page,
we abhor
its crisp
clean
emptiness….
do well in school,
get a decent job,
pay your bills,
make friends…
He slides out of the recliner,
shakes his ears as he bee-lines
for the couch where my mother
is about to sit down…
spend so much time
keeping a distance,
using space as a barrier,
making yourself a castle …
They say,
pick yourself up
and carry on.
I look at my baggage…
