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For Pops
A child five years old waits patiently, the door has not opened for some time, a dining room chair methodically collects dust. Three dinner plates have become two, seemingly overnight. One kiss upon my forehead, though different, something new as the touch and embrace last moments longer, sometimes met with tears, silent sobs in the…
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Poem – Home
To mom and pops Light edges across the roof giving rise to my shadow. With eyes closed I know it is there, I know I am home. I left 20 years ago trying to find my way to make my own life and path. Travelling to other countries finding my heart in Alaska but I…
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Poem – A Child Waits
In honor of Mother’s Day and including pops, a poem. A child five years old waits patiently, the door has not opened for some time, a dining room chair methodically collects dust. Three dinner plates have become two, seemingly overnight. One kiss upon my forehead, though different, something new as the touch and embrace last…