Pixabay
he’s on the phone
begging her to listen
I shouldn’t eavesdrop
My mind goes back to one dark night when I was in my teens, observing a young man having an earnest conversation with his significant other, wondering how the story would end.
leaf-padded trail
muffles the grumble
of your aching feet
when mom makes the bed
she wallops all the monsters
super powers
we returned the shoes
she bought to dance in after
her last treatment
Image: TerriC–Pixabay
child on a swing
twirling herself dizzy
fallen leaves skitter by
time like a shadow
touches me in its passage
leaving so little
she told him so often
take it easy on that curve
the wail of sirens
in the twilight
Grandma folds her tired hands
one last time
cherries glisten
in a fruit stand basket
sampling with my eyes
crosses by the road
three souls have left
their bodies behind
