Tag Archives: childhood

Broken Stick

light bends
becoming a divining rod
for color
i push a doll in a buggy
years before i wonder
about you
like an open watch back
i am staring again
wheels spinning
teasing out how things work
wondering if we are
still keeping time
or in need of repair
because something skipped
and now the wand
only finds
shades of gray

Closet Monsters

funny how when we are little
monsters sneak out the closet
roaming streets and schools
sometimes our own homes
screaming for lights to be on
eventually we grow silent
hiding tired eyes, weary souls
under layers, layers of clothing
layers of beliefs, layers of makeup
layer upon layer until we are grown
then we shove monsters back
into closets and underneath beds
pretending they are gone

Cooking With Cousins

i want you to remember
we spied santa on a hillside
our star sang ballads from
psychedelic radio lights
old men that were only
middle-aged crooned and
strummed, sat us on knees
we pelted each other in
crabapple wars when white
flowers fell leaving only fruit
gorgeous flying fruit that 
filled souls rather than bellies
the sting dimmed by laughter

i want you to remember
football in the side yard
where we didn’t let you win
each point you made was yours
holiday shows littered with song
we showcased you, center stage
because there is no resistance
for endless pools of brown eyes
willing innocent’s quiet voice
riding double, even triple on
stingrays, hoping not to fall
being called in to go home
pretending we had all gone deaf

i want you to remember
to let it soak overnight like
frijoles we cook in the morning
simmer like green chile that
brings sweat to brow, grin to face
pull the memories in close
hugged like husk to masa
know that these things, each
rounded us out like bunuelos
refined in the hottest oil
heritage stacked layer upon
layer melting like enchiladas
so our hearts would never know hunger

Little Boys


little boys make me think of
pockets full of treasures
climbing trees

but little boys can surprise us
with thoughtful pauses
childhood crushes
sad hearts

because little girls
with long curly hair
100% on spelling tests
quiet laughs
aren’t always ready
to think of little boys at all