over and over

I tell his story

so he’s here with me

even the trees

seem to shiver tonight —

come closer, beloved

just before bed

we trade stories about him —

sunlight, revisited

the eyeblink between

waking and remembering —

gone, and gone again

annoyed at the seeds

in my seedless orange —

January blues

his response to fear —

a frantic search

for understanding

still here —

the constellations

my father taught me

rainy day song —

every roof

becomes a drum

yearn, pine, and long — we've needed all three of these, haven't we?

shu mai, cream of wheat,

Cheerios straight from the box —

sick day comfort food

they each sang both songs

until they knew the other’s —

whose song do you know?

(inspired by this piece about Australian penguins Sphen & Magic)

colder and colder —
as our shadow crosses over,
we look for layers

lunar eclipse —

already I’ve forgotten

where to look for you

air that smells like snow —

your grin as good as asking

where I’ve put the sled

the promise of snow

gently takes the place

of my alarm clock

your finger a victim

of life at the speed of life —

maybe broken now

deep in the thicket

sparrows singing their safety —

our boy when we’re home

half-full already

the moon lights our way home —

no sign of the fox

new season, new songs —

I imagine my father

listening from somewhere

wood smoke still tangled

in our hair and laughter —

home before midnight

showing us again

what freedom feels like —

a fox by starlight

the cold between stars slips as far down as it can — sneaky pickpocket

the boy I taught

to find Orion

points it out to me

first person ever

to look at me in wonder —

my father, day one

first day back —

secretly thinking about

presents we didn’t get

we stay silent

because we don’t want to lie —

no sign of the moon

my friend’s parent dies —

we find each other's eyes,

understanding now

up so late

we get hungry again —

twenty-six years on

a stranger’s child

plays peek-a-boo with me —

first green shoots of spring

windy day blue jay —

how much of our lives are spent

just balancing?

just before the hunt

a barn owl’s quiet warning —

first voice of the year