the piece started with an idea
about who we were or might have been
or could (still) be. come as one of those
and meet me at the tree.
existential conversations, many
worlds theory and our alternate
selves. possibilities, of slipping
stream, of re arranging the pieces of
what makes us *us, as in: who we are.
at the time, i was newly ill,
decided to try the life i might
have had if i had taken
another path.

lucky charms was my favorite
cereal by far as a kid. i did love the
crunchy marsh mallows, but
more so the thought there were
MagicalThings in this world.
when i was a child, there were five
(purple horseshoes hadn’t
been invented yet). green clover, to me,
seemed the best of the bunch,
and besides, we knew just
where we'd go to hunt for them.
inspired by our balanced

we hear much about young love.
and rightly so; there is so much
to say. that initial flurry of
love notes and longings,
presenting our best selves to our
potential partners. then a dedication,
our lives, once two, now one.
perhaps, for once, feeling
whole and feeling home. over time
that closeness ebbs and flows

i knew this day would come,
when someone asks me for
a poem about something i’m
unfamiliar with. i know exactly
one taylor swift song. it goes
players gonna play..
haters gonna hate..
i just wanna shake it off.
though i've heard many
more i’m sure and would
recognize them. this poem
makes me smile because

there are times when
the work, doing what
you love will feel so
rewarding you won't want
to stop. flow begs to be
followed until it runs dry.
other times it feels born
of necessity, to be in constant
motion, because it feels
like living. the work you do to

8th grade may be the perfect
grade to teach, at least for me,
14 the perfect age for learning poetry.
the weightier ways of the world are
beginning to shape and lay claim,
but your lives are still bursting with
hope and brimming with possibilities.
i love the silliness of youth that
still exists within you (may you never
lose this gift). i remember when i was

losing you has been
a struggle and a blessed
experience. it's left a
hole in my life but your
passing brought healing in
its wings, in many ways a
final gift for our family.
you may have been misunderstood
in life at times but we look
forward to the day when we will
know as we are known, our
hearts wide open to receive
the love and grace we sometimes
struggled to believe while
here on earth. and those last

it's 5 a.m. and i'm
wide awake again
my mind won't stop so i
get up and put the kettle on,
realize i've been trying to solve
the world's problems in
my sleep. and it's early
enough i have time to think more
while i drink my caffeine
in the tub, remembering how
privileged it is to have
safety, hot water, enough food
to eat. an education. we're fighting
a war of ideas. so what do i say to

it's been so long, what do i
remember? boo radley, for sure,
how the kids befriended him, or
was it the other way around?
there was a tree where they left
gifts for one another. later in
life when i would go letterboxing i
always thought of boo, but also
remember how much scout wanted to
drink coffee, it was a rite of
passage, and she wanted to be like
her older brother. also, the

i remember our
first date at that italian
restaurant chain, how i had
soup in my beard but didn't
know until the mirror told me so.

in truth, it is
a moment like any other,
but in it is
fullness of joy.
i know that these
small possibilities
aren't really small
at all, but just
beginnings. in the

each one is diff'rent
from the last, an experience
in itself, and i don't want
to miss out, if one didn't
follow on the heels of

i am so blessed to be

your daughter, to have

inherited your

creativity, a beautiful

gift i'm so glad that

my mom had a lot of plants
when we were kids, at least at first.
i remember them from when we
lived in iowa. there was
an ivy plant i loved
that lived on top of the
piano, wound up winding
itself down the side and almost
to the floor. it made me think about

i've never had children
of my own; i made
artwork instead. but i
marvel at the fierceness
of the love i have for
my sisters' children.

i will probably never change the world.

this is okay with me.

i will get up every morning

and focus on my ripple

the ring of concentric circles

extending out from

i wonder
how babies feel
about being born.
it's safer in
the womb, but

we wear our heart on the
outside because somebody loved
this neighborhood so much
that she rescued this house
from the flood. she fought back
against those who wanted to
tear it all down, who said
restoration can't be done, it's
too far gone. she knew someday
that there would be love
in this house. because

i always tell people
when they ask
i'm from texas, because
who wants to be born in the
midwest? though i do grow
nostalgic, at times, for