Poetry, I Guess

You visited me the other day

In a dream so vivid I felt I was there.

You were lying on your belly, surrounded

By an army of crayons, colors bursting.

You were not frightened by my presence.

How could you be? You knew my deepest

Secrets, fears, longings, dreams, passions.

They were yours as much as they were mine

And if anything you felt calm, content.

You say something in your strange

Baby tongue, cooing at a blank paper.

“Shall we draw together?” I say. And we do.

The silence is comforting, me with you.

“They are proud of us.” I say finally.

You smiled at me, pink skin and baby teeth.

You had no care in the world, and I hope

Death came into my room last night.

His scythe was sharp and

His cloak was dark.

The mouse was small and weak in might.

The trap went snap and

The tree where you sat under is empty.

The birds are probably happy now,

You’re no longer there to bark at them,

Their very presence in the sky

An insult to your rule of this grassy domain.

The rope that kept you from wandering

To the neighbors nearby houses,

A worry that you would get shot by

The grumpy old man who hated dogs,

Hangs loose along the tree bark.

You’re no longer there to strain

Against the thin fibers holding you

From a snack of rabbits under the deck.

I sit here looking at your tree and feel sad,

Trigger warning: the following poem contains elements of suicide which may be sensitive to some readers. Please continue with caution.

My God is where the mountains are,

In crisp, clear air and tall pine trees.

I worship down on bended knee

The rolling hills that call to me.

My God exists in sweet bird song,

The chickadees and medowlark.

I watch them fly, and angels hark,

I feel their tune deep in my heart.

My God does not exist in church,

I do not pray; I cannot sin.

I'll live my life, and when I'm done in,

I've been on a date with you

It took place in my mind.

We had a lovely dinner

at a fancy place to dine.

You kissed me when we left

The lovely press of lips.

I swear I felt the gentle brush

But my mind was playing tricks.

We've never been on any date

You've never kissed my face.

I'll sit here in the winter time

A heart can break, 

It can shatter into two.

It can splinter into pieces,

drift down a river

Or blow in the wind. 

It’s often broken by a lover

Who stamps out its flame,

brings your love to an end. 

But no one tells you 

That it hurts so much more

Have you ever met a boy

Become best friends

Learned his secrets

Made him smile

Fallen in love

And cried all the way home

Color splattering across the sky

Fills my eyes with beauty.

No one can say goodbye

Like the sun can.

And when it comes time to leave

And your heart has had its fill

And you turn your back to the sky,

The sun promises to say hello

I fell for someone

Just a little bit ago. 

I’d never felt something like it before. 

My heart had never run so fast

My cheeks had never been so hot

A smile had never felt so good. 

I rode the high for so long

A wave sweeping on forever, 

And I was gliding through. 

But every wave has

To crash against the shore.

I was drowning suddenly,

My ship broken, filled with water

And no one was there to save me. 

No one was there when I lost 

The beat, the heat, and the smile. 

I’d never felt somthing like it before. 

My limbs had never felt so heavy,

My stomach had never twisted this hard,

Dreams had never shattered so far.

And yet, I picked up those shards.

And now I have a puzzle,

With a few pices left.

Empty holes in a picture

That’s slowly coming into focus. 

A pictire that looks like hope,

That maybe one day

Everyone I know

Is falling in love. 

And it happens so fast

All day I see it everywhere. 

My friends are holding hands, 

On Instagram, she is married,

He is planning a proposal,

They are welcoming a child. 

Where does that leave me? 

I know I can love,

I’ve done it so often

 And I do it still,

But where is my hand to hold? 

Where is my person, the one 

Who will give me a ring? 

Roses in a line and

A family on my mind. 

I’ve had to say no

To those who

I can’t love. 

Hearts keep breaking,

I keep aching,

People keep coming.

And still, I keep loving. 

I love the sky

I love the trees

I love crisp air in Fall

Crunchy snow in Winter

Blooming flowers in Spring

And warm sun in Summer. 

I love my Mom, my Dad, my Sister. 

I love life and all it’s beauty. 

But when will the day come

I’m desperately trying

To hold on to this rope.

I pull and I pull but

I’m losing the sail.

My ship, it is sinking

And I have a pail.

The water gets higher

My bones, they can’t float.

How do I fix this,

When everything’s broken?

I’m not a mechanic,

A sailor, or a boatman.

I’m just a girl

I miss you more than

I’ve ever missed anyone.

Sometimes I wonder if you

Ever miss me and our time,

I wonder if you’ve ever paused

And thought of me when a

Song played or a joke was made.

I wonder if it’s just me

Still feeling the effects of

Sunshine, mud puddles,

I’m trying to fill

This empty hole

That used to hold my heart

But nothing is working

And I can’t forget.

People want my heart

And I want to give it to them

But you still have it with you

A poem for those who daydream about love in the little things.

I often think about 

What it would be like

To have a home with

Someone you loved. 

Someone who went from

Eye-candy at the gym

To your personal chef

Or in house comedian. 

I often think about 

Living my life with

Two sets of toothbrushes

And snacks that aren’t mine.

New clothes in the dresser

New shoes by the door.

And, how have I not seen

This much beauty before? 

I want to experience 

Coming home after work

And finding my shower gel

Almost empty, nearly gone. 

I’ll crawl into bed

Snuggle in really close,

Press a kiss to their neck:

“Ah, so that’s where it goes.” 

I often think about

When I will know

That this one’s The One,

Not the others, just you. 

One day it will happen

All on it’s own,

And I’ll finally know

*a short story based on the theory that when you die, it's like your parents carrying you to bed from the car and tucking you in.*

She had been here for quite some time now, soft light streaming in her window and the steady traffic of nurses and healthcare professionals coming in and out of her door. Her family came a lot, too. They would sit around her, talking in gentle tones.

“How are you, Mom?” 

“Are you comfortable?” 

“I made this for you, Grandma, look!” 

She would smile at them all and respond if she could. Some days were better than others. 

“I’m well, honey.”

“Yes, thank you.” 

“Very nice!” 

But she had been here for a while. The sunlight had become too bright, the people had become a little too busy, and her family’s faces had blurred together. 

She would take long naps, and these were always nice. She dreamt of home, always of home. The sun rising and falling behind the mountains, the wheat fields her father tilled and harvested, blowing softly in the spring, and being a perfect place to scamper through in the cool summer evenings. There would always be enough snow most winters to break out the snowshoes and the cross-country skis. The cold would nip her nose, though she and her sister were always bundled up as tight as their mother could get them. Their poor noses were the only victims of the razor-sharp chill when the wind blew. Nothing some hot chocolate couldn't fix, with extra marshmallows and, on special occasions, whipped cream. She always got it on her nose, a little white blob that would make her sister giggle and put a bigger blob on her own. 

The dreams would always get clearer, the mountain air would always smell fresher, and her mother’s laughter and father’s stories would echo in her head. Her daughter always brought her water on days she could get away from work, but some days her sister would come. It was always a surprise when her sister arrived, and she was always so happy to see her. 

“Oh, it’s been so long! Thank you, thank you for the water. Why don’t you come back anymore? We all miss you!” 

“We all miss you, too. Now, drink.” 

Her sister always looks sad during her visits, confused sometimes, but mostly sad. It must be hard to see her like this, propped up on pillows. Her daughter stops coming with the water, and her sister shows up more. She tells her about the dreams, reminiscing about their sweet childhood on the farm. Story after story, her sister is always happy to let her talk, sending sad smiles. One day, her sister starts crying, and it’s all very confusing because she thought they had been talking about sweet memories, nothing sad. 

“What’s wrong?” She didn’t remember what she said, nothing that could have made her cry, surely. Her daughter replied, back from work to give her water.

“I just don’t want to see you go.” 

“Oh, but, darling,” She was confused, “I’m not going anywhere.” 

She reached out for her hand, clasping it gently in her own, her beautiful daughter wiping her face and smiling.

“I know, Mom, I know. Now, drink.” 

After her daughter left and the water was drunk, she settled in for a nap. She was tired, so very, very tired. A nap would be nice. She would always get this tired on long drives back to the house after a family outing took them away from their little sanctuary under the mountains. The rumble of the engine and tires was a perfect lullaby, the radio soft and soothing. Her daughter slumped in the car seat in the back, looking every bit like her aunt had. No, did she have a daughter yet? She had always wanted one; her husband had been talking about trying for a child, and what a joy it would be to have a daughter. Oh, and what a joy it would be to have a husband and a family of her own. Perhaps it would be the boy from school, the one who gives her a dandelion bouquet on the playground when they bloom and who chases her with worms when it rains. Oh, he’s such a funny boy. He annoys her mother so much, but she hides it because, of course, it’s obvious how much her daughter likes him. She bets he’ll be a gentle father, good with girls who want to build and fix and learn and play. Like her father was to her, teaching her to drive the tractor and haul the grain and climb tall trees, but not so high that her mother came out to beg her to “get down from there or you’ll hurt yourself!” 

Her vision blurs, and the distant sound of a car door reaches her. She’s groggy, her neck is sore from where it was bent unnaturally against the window. Arms gently extract her from her sitting position, the position she feels she’s been in for ages. It will be nice to stretch out once she’s in bed. She knows it’s her father carrying her, his strong arms familiar with tilling the land and loving his daughter. She wakes up slightly more as his walking jostles her, a soft, sleepy sigh, shifting to try and get comfortable, wishing she were cozy in bed. A few more minutes that feel like seconds that feel like hours, and she’s being carefully set down in her room and handed her pajamas, the pink set with the little white hearts, matching her sister. She climbs into bed, and her father covers her, making sure she has her nightlight and Mr. Bear. 

“Daddy, can I play in the field tomorrow? Will it be nice enough?” 

“You can play in the field as long as you want, kiddo.” 

“Can sister come with? She knows how to scare the mice.” 

“She’ll always be there, your mom and I, too.” 

“Ok, good.” She was so tired. 

“Alright, kiddo, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Good night, sugar plum.”

“Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

“We love you too. Sweet dreams, we’ll see you in the morning.”