Cap, gown, diploma,
degree. A sense of self the
take-away that counts.
College graduation
1
Cap, gown, diploma,
degree. A sense of self the
take-away that counts.
She can’t stand her. He’s
her ex, so don’t include them.
Can’t we go alone?
In it she was arm
candy, someone that turned heads
unexpectedly.
He sent sensitive
documents to a stranger
thinking it was me.
When’s the right time to
wash winter blankets? Last night
I saw snowflakes fall.
Dog is lagging yet
clear skies pale green leaves urge me
to linger longer.
He tours in a case
like an aged Ken, “mint in box”
they’d say on eBay.
Rake leaves left over
from fall. Clean porch furniture.
Spring into action.
At a diner it’s
normal, but at home pancakes
seems so decadent.
An unexpected
crocus emerges, smiling
from a brown leaf pile.