1/14/16

wet wool smell of thawed dirt
and warming breezes-
my childish heart spelunks
into every ice pool,
slush-ringed, quartz-clear

1/13/16

no longer a baby, he fits a chair
brow studious over blocks; below
his feet dangle
like two small sparrows
frozen mid-plummet

1/12/16

we ran a merry dotted line
of footprints from fence to fence;
while he sleeps
the air goes opaque,
erases the morning's swift course

1/11/16

the day bowie died
we talked about the pretenders,
how to sneer
and yelp
with a baby on your hip

1/10/16

my oyster child
paint over this vexing grit
with salt water wash,
smooth it with the nacre
borne of my love

1/9/16

coffee-soaked morning
happy houseplants and me
humming dire straits in a pile
of sweaters, thrift store sweet
with patchouli and sunshine

1/8/16

children plop like mushrooms

in motherly laps, soft and milky;

my son arcs through the room

like a silver wire -

stray voltage, strange orbit