Poems

Poem

When I was little

Mom would read me

a book each night

then tuck me in

and kiss

both cheeks

and my forehead.

 

My dad

would be at work

Poem

The light through the blind is a poem,

the way it illuminates air.

And the shadows that fall

on the floor and the wall

are signs that a poem is there.

 

Poem

 

Thinker to Jace

If I'm not reciting a poem,

my tongue won't let me talk,

I can only bark.

But barking can't say much,