| Date |
Title |
Content |
|
College |
At eighteen I am unsure who I am, who I... |
|
Wounded |
She asked him to put the light back into... |
|
Woman |
You move between darkness and light... |
|
Pride |
I often wondered if the life around... |
|
Hope |
Night’s sky is a warm, blue robe.
It wraps... |
|
Father's 'Nam |
My father’s quietness is a loud... |
|
History |
The nation dangles from a thin branch;
a... |
|
Picking the Pieces Up |
As a child there was always someone... |
|
My Mother's Onions |
In the humid hour of a summer evening
the... |
|
Seashores |
She sees them in the sun,
a yellow... |
|
|
Memory is an old box of photos
in the attic... |
|
The Poet's Medicine |
In a maze of loneliness,
the heart pumps... |
|
Discontent |
Winter left us too dirty, he said.
I count... |
|
Melt Life Into Me |
Something isn’t right when it snows on... |
|
My Heaven |
I’m walking through a field.
The stars are... |
|
Papa |
Last night my grandfather came back,
I... |
|
... |
We are two women
left with our own... |
|
rewrite |
I have nothing to write, on this white... |
|
untitled |
For I have nothing to write, on this white... |
|
Flashback to the kitchen-Toledo, Spain |
In response to
|
|
Cool Thoughts |
I came home to find your chair empty.
It... |
|
Consequence of Dawn |
I see the bag fall to the ground,
a gray... |
|
Memories of Fall |
Some would say death comes with... |
|
Choice |
Did he know a little girl
played Barbies,... |
|
Segovia, the Day Before You Came |
in response to the photo Aqueduct
Two... |
|
A Door's Life |
The frame is old, its handle creaks at the... |
|
Escape |
She runs fingers through honey... |
|
Their Poem |
I cannot write a poem about something so... |
|
Bridge Collapse |
6:15 on Silver Lake Road
I drive, like any... |
|
Coming Home |
from
|
|
Sunset |
to
|
|
Remembering Espana |
For the photo
|
|
From the photo St. Anthony Cemetery |
For
|
|
Inspired by Rose |
For the photo
|
|
Ghazal |
I want the tree to never peel off her red... |
|
I watch |
two speckled sparrows hop fragile legs... |
|
Siesta |
The cathedral sits triumphantly upon a... |
|
Here and There |
On Johanna’s shore we spoke of Jesus, drugs,... |
|
The archaic torso of Apollo, |
an ancient stem of Grecian royalty
solidly... |
