NaPoWriMo #10

afraid but in need of love

Photo by Natalie Dobson via ReShot

Easter is the 42nd, and
I’m still alone–still afraid
to love.

I get tired of hearing,
“it’ll happen, just give it
time.”
“the one will come along.”
“someone is out there
for you,” yet no one has
showed up.

and even if they did,
how ready am I?
fear swims in the pit
of my belly, making it
its home, but I
still want love–still need love.

is that possible?

NaPoWriMo #9

E-RSVP

had an E-Vite for a hybrid
baby shower to which I
E-RSVP’d for the virtual login
option.

However, work is
offering overtime and time
and a half plus other incentives
and the inevitability of a
significant amount of extra coins
just seems so much better than
me fake-smiling and ooh-ahhing
to the passing around of
baby things I’ll never touch.

it was odd . . . E-cancelling
my E-RSVP, but I have life
riding me like the hag,
and having a lovely nest egg
to feed it is simply the
better choice.

NaPoWriMo #8

convenience

the clerk smiles at me–notices
my hospital-themed hoodie,
and makes small talk.

I can hear the click-clack of
my shoes as I pace the viscid
tiles of the floor. I hate that sound.

I think to myself, “Who’s cleaning
this place?” and I wonder if
I should purchase the
Payday, Mr. Goodbar, and roll
of tissue I have in my hand.

NaPoWriMo#7

Almost Little Sister


For Sarah

Almost Little Sister Tremaine L. Loadholt 2022 April 06

nearly four years ago, I
fell into the same path
as you, both of us wading our
way through the shores of
radiology imaging at a facility
known for its great service.
we became used to each other
over time — each day, a bit closer
to knowing more about the
person standing in front of
the other.

I have watched you grow from
a younger version of yourself
who always had to have her ears
to the ground of every goings-on
to a mature young lady who
stands up for what she believes in,
and reaches back to pull
someone else up to the same
place she resides.

you are a beam of intense light
breaking through the dark corners,
bolting yourself to the doors
of people’s hearts.
I love to hear you laugh which is
probably why I’m always cracking
jokes or doing what I can
to make that happen.

you are your mother’s child — strong
in your presence with a peppered
tongue and a big heart.
the way you’ve moved up in ranks
at work amazes me — shuffles a
heavier sense of pride to my
chest. 

I pat it once — accepting your
stride. I pat it twice — recognizing your
path.

this is a journey you were meant
to soldier — every day, you’re
carving into molds assigned to
deter you, and they crack in place
when greeted by your strength.
I know you know this but I would
slap someone in the throat
with a swift backhand if ever
your heart was torn in two.

it is the big sister in me
I cannot help it

and since you’re so much
like a little one to me, that
is inevitable.
keep gliding through the
difficulties of life with your
head held high and your
dimpled cheek facing the
heavens — let the blessings rain
down on you like they should.

you are deserving of
every last one.


For a coworker, friend, and now, little sister.