Writing Practice: Visiting with Mom

My mother’s house is by the railroad tracks and every night the rumble and horn of the train would jerk me awake. The conductor would just lay on that horn as if he was recovering from a PTSD experience. As if he’s saying, “I know you better not be out there this time!” and just incase, he does it again!

My mom doesn’t even hear it anymore. This astounds me even though I know it happens. We get used to things. Even things blaring and loud and staring us in the face. Like friendship. Like love. Like meanness and conditioning. The list is endless. 

Writing Practice 7: "Before You Go"

Before you go, 

let me come close

to embrace your life. 

Let me give you kisses of parting- 

 One for your hands consistently open

and working for others

 One for your cheek where the dimple lies

with your good cheer.

Writing Practice 6: mother ii

she sat within a home of sorts  

for the first time she felt safe

she didn’t know herself yet 

but it was only the beginning 

Writing Practice 5: mother

when mother laughed on the phone 

her voice was shrill and careless 

and rubbed my insides 

like grated cheese 

Writing Practice 4: the tilt

i look at you with soft eyes 

and you know what i mean 

because you’ve seen them 

Writing Practice 3: Regrets

     When I was 7 years old my best friend moved away. We had established a close bond over the course of the year. He chose to sit by me when we got to choose seats and picked me for games. It didn't matter to me that when he sat by me, we played punching games. I had a best friend! I loved that for Show and Tell he would bring fossils, and at the time I thought it was because his dad was an Archeologist and boy was that exciting! My best friend's dad had adventures where he dug up bones! Well, no, he was a Scientist and rarely stepped foot out of a lab, but you couldn't shake me of the daydream and also, I was biased. He was smart, and I liked smart!

Writing Practice 2: Hidden places

I have hidden places 

but perhaps you have them more

are they cool and dry 

and safe?

Do you cry and pace?

Feel at ease or ever ashamed?

Do you talk to yourself and make sure

you are okay?

I have hidden places 

few have ever been invited in

but I wonder if you barely know

that yours exists within?

Writing Practice 1: Stars

Sometimes the thoughts

are circle circling in the brain

like a gerbil on a wheel

in the middle of the night

Stars shoot into the sky.

The moon sighs.

The planets align. 

How rare we find ourselves. 

We look out at the night sky 

in hopes of

catching something 

glowing and alive

that is not a city light

ruining it all.