late night
homework
so many pop-tarts

briefcase discarded
the phone booth opens
up up and away

freckled girl
grape popsicle
ruins her shirt

low roar
pushing harder
get the mower up the hill

Austin Brettshneider

on your roof
calm silence
a cool breeze

perfect storm revealed
sun cast away
I begin a song

a tree falls
now mom says
they all must go

first family dinner
with her new boyfriend
he looks old

boots stuck in the mud
running in socks
in an estuary

headlights
from around the corner
cat's eyes

labor day
the pool sits vacant
until next spring

overheated car
enhancing
the puke smell

red striped swimsuit
cool, clear water
washes the sweat away

birthday candles
she blows them out
but does not wish

end of summer
car full to the brim
sophomore year

hot coffee
doing loads of homework
and laundry

pressing fresh leaves
in beautiful patterns
a sun-baked mud pie

setting up the bonfire
we forgot
about the firecrackers

petals
her roses
slowly filling with rain

morning storm
white caps
crash against the docks

washing dishes
with a good story
no longer a chore

white lace
hangs over the festivities
rings exchanged

leaves rustle
don't move
cottonmouth

packing my lunch
butterflies
yellow school bus

animals floating
with the noodles
in the steam

reptile house
I can't help but think
Harry Potter

panic fades
I see my friend
neon lights

wave pool
bobbing on the surface
like ducks

bedtime
the house creaks
monsters

horse's mane
between my fingers
we canter in the dust

two weeks
until school
band camp time again

splashing
my outfit ruined
. . . I don't mind

I dive
from the cool morning
into the cooler water

annoying tick
the metronome pushes my button
but still, I play

all beautiful
I long to be
like Mom

falling raindrops
I ask them
may I have this dance?

push-ups in the mud
an empty seat home
boys to men

early morning
sweaty tent
no ventilation

unmarried Mom
she rocks her baby
through a sermon

Randy Brooks (4)

a splash in the pool
aloe-vera
on red-hot skin

sun's glow
grilling
four juicy steaks

the last of the awkward years
finally over
blow the candles out

sitting in the van
realizing what life is
taking a different road

Sunday morning
too-quiet car ride
on the way to church

cold glass
the small snowflakes
stick