Outside, the yard is gap-toothed. It’s like there’s been / a war: Oaks choke the yard with limbs askew.

Every day for more than a decade I took the same road / to work in the morning, and home again in the evening.

Many of Genghis Kahn’s children wanted nothing to do with their father’s lifestyle ...

Beginning with those hedges, gnarled like her hands, / branches of veins spreading out, setting the house apart.

I used to be able to get lost in the woods / entirely dependent on my parents to find me

The Sheriff in this small southern town / Appears regularly on TV

Why would anyone buy a pair of used underwear? / I ask myself as I search through a bin / of miscellaneous clothing at Goodwill.

What happens to a voice unheard?

without caring for the actual peach / we would wait for Ma

He barged back into my life, / demanded my heart.

I find six strawberries / drowned in a blue Ikea bowl / abandoned

This morning / a praying mantis— / I call her Virgie— / climbed ...

Raindrops tinkle on the tin roof / like fingers on the ivory keys / of Grandma’s old piano.

Clouds swirl around. / Rain pounding down

We met at a summer dance, / Then she was gone.

Green is gorgeous is too soon gone, / she thought. Rockets fell toward new year’s dawn.

In the acre’s shady corner / of unremembered names

again, i was all alone / and awake / (just lying there) / when the first wave came with a strong wind