Eulogy

One final goodbye

I’ll leave no words still unsaid,

All that’s left is love.

Heavy

Even today, 

tree lit and 

gifts opened, 

your absence 

is a heavy coat 

I cannot shrug off. 

I am paralyzed 

by the weight of it, 

the weight of 

the absence of you. 

Nothing 

has never been 

so heavy. 

A New Lu

Five years 
slip by just like 
skates upon ice, 

leaving 
sweet memories 
behind.

Five years 
of knowing 
and loving 
your face,

praying 
health for 
your body 
and mind. 

Five years 
taught patience, 
turned cry into 
voice

made brave 
what once 
cowered 
in fear,

Five years 
grew strong, 
and let 
mama’s hand 
drop,

the adventure gets 
bigger 
this year. 

Snowflakes

Snowflakes like wishes fall silent on lips,

cold muffles all sounds the same.

Winter paints canvases freshly in whites,

but never erases your name. 

Monsters

My daughter, 

still warm, 

wrapped in phantom blankets, 

tucks her face 

into my elbow 

and whispers: 

Mama. 

I can’t sleep. 

I’m afraid of the dark. 

And I want to tell her, 

there is nothing 

to be afraid of, 

kiss her head 

and send her 

back to the pillow 

that so recently 

cradled her wild curls, 

smooth the 

worried wrinkles 

from her forehead 

and rub the fears 

from her back 

like my hands 

are a magnet 

and fear is only 

slivers of silver. 

But 
the lie catches 

between my teeth-  

lies breech 

under my breath. 

There is so much 

to fear, 

that we fear 

even the things 

we do not yet know. 

Snakes 

and spiders 

and traffic 

and the IRS 

and retirement 

and finding love 

only to lose it 

and being 

too loud or 

too quiet or 

too tall or 

too short or 

too far away 

for love to hear 

our call. 

We fear numbers, 

days, 

flavors, 

political groups, 

heights, 

being talked about 

behind our backs, 

or never thought of 

when we have left the party 

to return home 

to the bed 

that smells like 

safety. 

So instead, 

I pull her closer, 

shield her 

from the monsters 

that threaten to invade 

her dreams, 

and promise her 

solemnly: 

It’s okay, baby. 

I’ll always be here. 

Dinner

The day you left, 

I couldn’t stop eating: 

pasta, 

fish, 

pork, 

olives, 

ice cream. 

Bite after bite, 

I swallowed my sorrow: 

let it move my lips 

into something 

other than a 

silent scream. 

It sat 

heavy in my throat, 

refusing to move on, 

to be properly digested.

I still don’t know 

if this lump is 

dinner or 

despair. 

Keys

Losing my mind 

like it’s tethered to keys, 

Sun shining brightly, 

I stand here and freeze,

Decision impossible, 

flow like the breeze,

The only way out is 

straight up.

Biting my tongue 

like it’s raspberry pie,

Begging the clouds 

to return to the sky,

Stars disappear, 

now it’s darkness and I,

Empty is not just 

for cups.

Days stretch before me 

like desert’s hot sand,

no respite in sight, 

like an ocean, no land

grasping for comfort, 

but finding no hand, 

Alone is the worst time 

of day.

Words go unspoken 

and fall on deaf ears

Silently screaming 

and nobody hears

A single breath in, 

that’s supposed to last years

Grief passes, 
that’s what they say. 

The Poem I Didn’t Want to Write

The first time 

I met you, 

tall 

dark 

perfect, 

I knew 

the gleam 

in your eyes 

would one day 

remind me of 

every starry sky 

I would ever see.  

You held 

my hand 

in your own, 

and my heart 

started skipping- 

your joy 

has always been 

contagious. 

The day 

I realized 

I loved you, 

you handed me 

my jacket, 

saved it 

from being forgotten 

in an auditorium 

littered with dust 

and empty water bottles. 

You held 

the door for me, 

and I held 

my breath 

as you 

cocooned secrets 

in the front seat 

of the school bus. 

The day 

I said 

goodbye to you, 

sent you 

to your new 

adventure 

too far for me 

to follow- 

I knew 

I would ache 

with your absence 

the way 

the wounded 

believe their leg 

might someday 

heal, 

might bear weight, 

might someday 

run once more. 

This is to say, 

my dearest darling,

the joy

the trust

the hope 

the love 

that has painted you 

irreplaceable 

has changed me- 

has changed 

the world.

I love you.

Sunshine

Numb is the new cold:
Some days, even the sun fails
to make me feel warm.

Cyclical

So here we are 

again, 

Brown leaf blankets

and stereo lullabies.

The thing about 

horizons 

is I can 

never remember 

which direction 

I am heading. 

The sun 

looks the same, 

rising and 

setting. 

A crystal ball and

a rear view mirror 

look the same 

when you’re 

driving 

in circles. 

I wrote 

my future 

on your back, 

so I’d be sure 

to see it 

as you walk 

away. 

Too

It has all become clear:
I have never been enough.
I am too small a smile,
too quiet a song,
too placid a passion.
I am too dry a sponge,
too thin a paint,
too bare a cupboard.
You were made for more than me:
I am an empty cup, beloved,
and without you,
I have no hope of filling.