​Serendipity


Rain thwarted our plan for the afternoon— 
but washed the streets to a grey that glowed,
and led us to a dim-lit bar
almost peopleless, to drinks we left

unsipped, and to kisses that became
a sunlit stairway we began
to climb. We paused a moment—surprised
our day had taken a turn to somewhere

even better than where we'd thought
we were going. Then I gave you
little slow kisses on the corners
of your mouth until you—reaching the top

of the stairs ahead of me—leaned forward,
cupped my cheeks in your warm hands
and pressed my lips with a kiss
that brought the whole horizon with it.

previously published in IODINE POETRY JOURNAL



A Story I Tell


Eighty years old, of course I reminisce!
Rather than again add up
the latest sum of pills I take,
I'll tell of a time in World War Two
when my older brother came home
fresh out of boot camp at a naval base.

Trained to get up very early
and stand at attention--his posture
straighter than it ever was again--
he on this morning ate a breakfast
happily served him by our mother,
then decided his kid brother should get up,
and I, barely awake, heard
his heavy footsteps climbing the stairs,
heard him already shouting,
"Time to rise and shine!" and I replied,
"I don't want to rise and shine,"
and he, "Time to hit the deck!"
and I, "I don't want to hit the deck,"
and he, darting toward my bed,
tugged at the blankets on top of me
and we wrestled and laughed
and our laughter echoed off the walls.

previously published in REACH POETRY



A High School Moment


Unlike
the school day's earlier hours,
filled with predictable demands,

now as I join other students
walking outside after classes end,
a moment catches me by surprise:

the tenor voice of a classmate
starts to sing
the words of a popular love song

and all the teen conflicts
harassing me week after week
fall away

        and I become a bird— 
long buffeted by the wind— 
suddenly gliding down
to an earth calm with sunlight.

previously published in REACH POETRY