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Letters to grandma
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It is not an insult that I fall asleep first.
Too many years I spent my nights listening for regular breathing
Before I could relax enough to close my eyes.

Now I'm so relaxed, I fall asleep midsentence.
I'm sorry, my love, please understand,
I feel safe in your house, in your room.

We will wake slowly to your myriad of alarm clocks,
Jarring and loud but each silenced quickly.
Eventually the day will begin.

A child’s shining face
Up and down and all around
Story teller time

Desert sunset blue
Hummingbirds quiet at last
Javelinas wake

Unless you are Walt Whitman
Self love is an unpoetic affront
To requisite angular angst
Love’s labor lost and found
Diffident dads and morose moms
God’s predicted periodic absence
Melancholic miasmas mirror
Solicits servile solitude
A whirling dance of doubt
Perhaps Emily’s quirky grace
Of musical vowels and consonants
The only certainty in mystery
Allah waits to be discovered
Promises to take us back
Yahweh’s dutiful life after death
Forever lost in the glory of God
Buddha’s meditative moment
Requires you to forgive yourself