oakdale drive

so this is a home:
honey-wood hallways embraced
by frames & family, blinking
moon of lamplight
warmed by laughter

winking babies on the wall
passing by click after click —
vignettes of childhood
kaleidoscoping
into a still-motion movie:

bike trips along the erie canal
summers lazing around skaneateles
ski&board expeditions on
the next mountain over
again & again & again —

i half-expect to find
my own childhood peeking
from around the corner,
tattered monkey squinting at me
from a restless dream

nostalgia drifting in
from the fireplace &
between each preschool art coaster
preserved like they’re crafted by
the next Da Vinci

idling engine left on the gravel
driveway leaving a day’s work
at the back door
& a kiss on each cheek
— just like they show in the movies.

so this is home:
breakfast nook built by
father’s intentions, an act that says
“and so it is”, time and time again
tripping over itself in declaration

a brother’s heart captured
in brushstrokes, glasswork pumpkins
the sister brings home each fall,
wedding photos & the vows
that never stop saying i do.

i can’t stop thinking about how
all of this is some sort of small
miracle, the way each tree
planted for the each of you
stands tall in the harsh winters

the quiet strength weathering
heartache & inevitable change
blooming shade in sticky summers
& sweetness dribbling down your chin
— life, in its own way, unlike any other.

everywhere i turn
all i can do is look & look
& look. how wonderful it must
be to feel this kind of safety:
to know you will never stop
returning to a place

where love is always waiting.

crash&burn

you only like me when you’re drunk

in that brief headspace, moment
yearning for touch so tender yet 
so fleeting that the next day when
you can hardly look me in the eye
i wonder if it was me who imagined it all

durand eastman

glint of golden sun tousles windswept hair
even in this green sea the water clings
to your body - me, merely an onlooker
in this glass galley, my fingertips pressed
against the pane never close enough to drink in
this gilded frame of a god

where the pen touches paper

Well, here she is, my new and improved poetry blog! If you’re here from my old Medium page, welcome. I hope to use this site in pretty much the same way I used that one, except now I have much more freedom in my work and can connect with other bloggers and poets who are outside of the Medium bubble! I’m super excited to begin the journey here – it’s been quite the work in progress to get to this point.