poetry

Old Millennial

I can still conjure the signature scent of college, eau de Febreeze. Several pumps of parfum overlay on the way to bacon and eggs to evaporate reeking deci...

Hide-And-Seek

My son tells me to close my eyes and count to ten, but then remains standing feet away, hands over his face, giggling wildly. I’ve tried to explain to him where...

Struck

I don’t remember how it happened. Just the removal and glass meeting the skin, And it was my skin I meant to say, And, oh, that I might have loved him. I d...

Unpolished

You sip your Fit Vine wine from your filled-to-the-top Yeti.  You don’t want to get up to pour more. Or, maybe, you want to say you only have one “glass” a nigh...

Grief

Grief doesn’t evaporate into the sunlight of the morning. It’s heavier than the infinite raindrops falling, entrapping us with memories of stormy nights. ...