poetry

the library, during the pandemic, post-fire

the library, in the pandemic, post-fire

at the library:
free masks in lunch bags
a sign that says
offer a message of hope
(or something like that)
along with cut-out hearts,
markers, paperclips,
and a string strung with
love and good wishes.

all the books we’re looking for are here.
all 3 Cedar wants are in the Teen section.
on our way up I ask
if he’s been in there before.

once, when Owen was registering
for the Summer Reading Program

he says.
this, then, is a rite of passage.

we enter and it turns out
he knows just about all the kids at the computers.
yes, this is his zone now.

it’s not like the old days –
we hustle in and out
the water fountains are padlocked
the librarians are behind sneeze guards
and there are no more golf pencils and slips of paper
to jot down Dewey Decimals.

but it is like the old days, too –
a warm place where we take care of one another
and believe anything is possible.
the first heart on the line reads
thank you for welcoming us in
and giving us somewhere to be

(or something like that).
it’s still a home away from home,
which is especially welcome
when your home is no more.

poetry

tweens

tweens

may I never forget
our boys at this age
searching the mud
for slick thick-bellied frogs
loose in their lengthening bodies
unconscious of the part of their hair
and whether anyone’s watching

poetry

Lorica for my soon-to-be-teenage son

Lorica for my soon-to-be-teenage son

at Moon Creek today
I call upon the winged ones
who have fired my son’s soul
since he was small

between him and adolescent angst
I place these birds and their powers
a living shield
to keep him whole as his life shifts

I place the chickadee with his confidence
and the albatross with her ease
the junco with his acceptance
and the eagle with her righteousness

I place the Arctic tern with his strength
and the loon with her devotion
the condor with his perspective
and the kakapo with her contentment

I place the bluebird with his optimism
and the snowy owl with her resilience
the trumpeter swan with his self-esteem
and the Verreaux’s eagle-owl with her wisdom

I place the little blue penguin with his connectedness
and the wooly-necked stork with her lovingkindness
the bird-of-paradise with his persistence
and the falcon with her focus

I place the bowerbird with his artistry
and the woodpecker with her grit
the blue-winged macaw with his compassion
and the ptarmigan with her warmth

all these memories and powers
I place between my sweet son
and all darkness
all despair

between his kind, trusting heart
and all forms of doubt
between gentleness
and the hard world

at Moon Creek today
I gather all these wonders
to encircle him
with their soft strong wings

to sing to him in the dark
that is not yet dawn
to remind him what a gift it is
to be here in the wide world

where hummingbirds survive hurricanes
and plovers calm crocodiles
with their grace beside him and within him
I send him out into the world

trusting he will be true
to who he is
what he loves
and what he stands and kneels for