ink on a canvas
creates a small child—
missing dad

rickety treehouse ladder
parents fighting
down below

disappointed in him...
not my choice
I cry in the back row

cuddled on the cliff face
she holds onto
his smile

top quarter champion

top half champion

bottom quarter champion

there she lies
as the mourners pass
she texts behind the tissue

inherited tie clip
my first use
feels unoriginal

fluorescent tennis ball
her final bite marks
still there

cigarette smell
in the living room
of a dead man

top half champion

champion

bottom half champion

graduation
Grandma struggles
to hear my name

mother’s pearls
my neck
blushing

summer tea party
listening to the rain
on my porch

lights reflected in the river—
a bridge floats
between present and future

top quarter champion

bottom half champion

bottom quarter champion

autumn leaves
new neighbors
take down the tree house

dropping down
onto the forgotten banana
a solitary fly

white sand beach
poking little toes
into the homes of crabs

sun day
letting the sand bury
my feet