gemini moon
it was never about
the lies
cumming outside the lines
my tongue parting the forest floor
wishing…
wishing
she wasn’t cremated
Mother’s Day
Haiku North America Anthology – 2019
scars…
scars
only my husband can see
Easter Sunday
bound with rope
pastor says the Lord
will tell me when
waiting
and waiting
Judgement Day
godless…
godless…
enough just to see
the sunrise
parting word…
sunset unfurls
over an empty yard
folding
into myself
ocean wave
Akitsu Quarterly – Fall 2019
Leftover Ribbon Now Available
It’s finally here! My first chapbook, Leftover Ribbon, is now available for purchase.
These poems tell my story of becoming and being a mother with the moments of beauty and sorrow it has brought, from birth trauma to bipolar disorder to potty training and sex after kids. It took a year and half for this book to see the light of day and I am ever grateful to Velvet Dusk Publishing for making it a reality. I hope you check it out and enjoy!
his hand…
his hand where
my husband’s should be
office visit
pap smear
if only
I was a boy
birth control denied
domestic abuse
taking the hit
like a girl
preacher’s wife
no choice
but to be a mother
Under the Covers
Under the Covers
Pentecost
you say we aren’t like
those other christians
just
one of the girls
purity ring
if not me
then someone else
pastor’s erection
the weight of his hand
as he pushes me down
Alpha and Omega
end times
all I need
to say yes
a stumbling block
for the pastor’s wife
my strapless dress
women’s retreat
not looking away
as we undress
hidden bruises
only my mouth needed
for the Eucharist
getting what
I deserve
cervical cancer
call for salvation
I raise my hand again
and again
morning glories…
the child
we didn’t plan –
morning glories
spring equinox
too pregnant to sit
too pregnant to stand
green again
her pigtails
become the sky
Akitsu Quarterly – Summer 2019
hazy moon…
hazy moon
all our friends
divorcing
Modern Haiku 50:2
first crocus…
first crocus
she repeats the seasons
after me
Hedgerow #127
remembering…
remembering I am without Mother’s Day
pruning the family tree full disclosure
tampon box
my father chooses
self-checkout
Renewal
Renewal
As our children are off running around the indoor playground we have sought refuge in, I disclose to my friend that I have never gardened before. With our new house and spring approaching I ask for some tips on what to do about all the empty beds in our backyard. After an appraising look she replies, “Don’t buy anything you can easily kill.”
couples counseling
we circle back
to the beginning
after years…
after years of therapy
the rambling
of wildflowers
unswept floors
we no longer look
each other in the eye
at first sight
at first sight
conversion
the love
I could never have
confessing
every sin
first date
engagement photos
only our feet
touch
wedding night
I pretend
he’s my first
role-play
I perfect
submission
finally winning
God’s approval
first pregnancy
pastor’s wife
my first name
forgotten
our daughter’s smile
you tell me
you never believed
new haircut
shedding
my fundamentalism
all that’s left
the rings
we no longer wear
