NaPoWriMo #30

Friday Birdsong

The birds’ church
starts again promptly at
7 pm, and everyone has
their place.

I walk the dog–her pointy
ears rise at attention.
Can she feel their melody?
Does she appreciate their harmony?

We walk to pass the time
listening to heaven’s gift
to us on a Friday evening.
I’d gladly gift nature my
tithes.


Another year of writing a poem a day for 30 days has come to an end. It has been a test and a trial, but I succeeded. Thanks for being here, beautiful people. See you next year for NaPoWriMo!

NaPoWriMo #29

the hump is hard to get over

One of the many text message exchanges between me and Chrissy.

just when I thought I was
having a decent span of
days in a row without breaking
completely down, I swiped
through some photos in
my phone and came across
a screenshot of a text message
from one of my greatest loves,
and the tears piled on like
never before.

I wanted to lift myself up from
the chair and summon relief.
my heart is in a million pieces
and it’s going to take time
to put it back together again.
I am jigsawed, an abandoned
puzzle with no box for storage.

her daughter–my beautiful little
cousin, keeps up with me,
sends “I love you” messages
from time to time, and “How are
you” greetings and I am holding
on to her as hard as I can.
eleven years stand between us.
I have memories of her mom
she’ll never know, but I share
them–in pictures, with words.

I see her now through
WhatsApp message exchanges
and videos, and as soon as I
am done feeling every inch
of her presence, I cry.
she is so much like her
mother–such an incredible
radiance fills the room.
I get lost in
her ramblings–awed by her
talents.

my grandmother calls to thank
me for her copy of October Star
and the first thing that leaves her
mouth is, “Tre, you look so much
like Chrissy,” and I can’t find
the words to acknowledge the
fact. Moments later, I pull
“Everyone said that” from my
soul and I let it linger in the
air that filled our pauses.

it is a hard thing to look
in the mirror and see the
person you loved so much
staring back at you, but you
can’t call her, can’t write to her,
can’t send her a text message–
can’t do a damn thing but
let life continue being life.

the hump is hard to get over,
and I wish I wasn’t heavy
on the struggling end, but
I’m trying. God knows I am.
and when my overwhelming days
hit me, I have to slap on
my big girl pants and move
through the hell of it because
the one person who talked
me down from a high ass
cliff isn’t around anymore.

and never will be.
and that is the hardest
pill I have ever hard
to swallow.

NaPoWriMo #28

Brought Back to Life (revised)

Sold into flames, fiery pits sing of the determination of willful souls that know only the battles of their homeland.

Dead then alive, then dead again, human resurrection; phoenixes preparing to soar, resisting the shackles weighing them down.

Is this life’s reward? Are we waiting
to be brought back to life
while we negotiate to live?

Are we?

NaPoWriMo #27

you–with your back to love (revised)

the sun does not care
for past inflictions of pain
it’s a love-bringer

you–your back to love
tell me that I’ve lost my spark
the sun says, “untrue”

I believe the sun
it can be trusted with love
my spark is revealed

you shout these untruths
hiding behind your hard heart
I see right through you

NaPoWriMo #26

Jernee, sitting in the car while I gathered our things so we could leave the Vet’s office.

Aging Has Its Place (a one-lined poem)

The cataracts have fully-formed, her hearing is sub-par, the cystic tumor on her back, right paw coupled with her age aren’t the best candidates for surgery, yet she continues to give me joy and affection on the roughest of days; she always forgets her pain for me.