The ground

The ground heals me. The pebbles talk

to my feet, don't ignore us! The broken

glass keeps me awake, reminding.

I remember rougher ground, walk-

ing on sharper pebbles. The unspoken

brilliance of the jeweled blood left by

the broken glass. The old ground, grinding

the pebbles slowly to round, binding

my feet to dance over broken glass, no reason why.

Birthday reunion

Tonight my family's faces kissed, talked,

ate cake and s'mores, told stories and sang.

The room rang with the names we were given.

Our faces rhyme, our stories have walked

all over our crisscrossed memories. This gang

is our gang, the names are the names. Embraces

flickering, stories lovingly felted. We've driven

mad, wild to be this us. To touch and watch our faces.

Where'd she go?

Still looking for my twin, my always-play-

with-me buddy. Aren't you? She would be

just like me, standing on the hill leading

down to the river, my twin, wishing every day.

Come play with me! Nine years old, just like me,

my forever twin my same silly, my same scared,

my same play-all-my-games papercutting reading

just like me. Me paired. Me shared. Me squared.

Scrabble night in Berkeley

We are young and older, straight-

forward and more devious, come to play

word games, drink tea, and surpris-

ingly, straightforwardly, talk heartbreak as we wait

our turns, word games falling away

then, straightforwardly asking one

another: and your heartbreak? and guys,

your heartbreak? till the word games are done.

Down by the river

The light is timid and hopeful down by the river.

He says I am scary. Only one of us has slept.

There was only one bed. Who is shouting?

Down by the river I am retreating. I shiver.

I don't think I am scary. Do I have to accept

What he says? Only one of us has slept. I shake.

Down by the river we're having the most awful outing

Only one of us has slept. I am scary. I wish I could wake.