spring flowers

for a moment, they exist

before wilting

it’s okay if your purpose is short and small:

gather dew drops and brave spring snow

and most of all, bloom in the time you have



trip, fall:

 your face now in the dust and you

 look into the world from

 the lowest point possible.

 find that it isn’t so bad

 here. not really.

broken 2

hey you there, with your dreams crashed on the sidewalk

why are you dwelling in the broken shards that will only cut you further?

look up and about and notice

frost melts, grass grows, skies turn blue

and the sun rises, every morning.

pick yourself off the sidewalk and walk forward

towards the new summer day.


I have encountered this site many times in my life

walking home from school, usually

a stray piece of bread draws them in

(but sometimes I don’t know why they have piled together

they just do it)

I always have to touch it, making the pile writhe and squirm

seeing the tiny creatures panic in mass

I always have to stare, fascinated

until I finally squish them with the toes of my shoe

and move on.


the latch on the lock sticks, so try to quietly turn it

move the doorknob slowly, ignore the creaking hinges.

outside there is light, not this suffocating dust.

creep out, and slowly shut the door behind you

looking forward, onward,

to the raw, open world.


it is snowing outside, and it is April

and people protest: this is spring!

I remind them: spring has always held snow

for the growth starts with frost

the petals only come after dormancy

and though the world may seem yellow,

it is fringed with green.


I only get one shot

one shot I cannot delete

one shot I cannot edit

so I fiddle, adjust, slowly

carefully double checking my manual settings

no battery power, nothing automatic

it’s just me and the light

one shot

push the shutter, rewind, start over

I don’t even know if it worked.


look at you in your dorm room
emptiness gradually turning into piles of you
since when did you have orange sheets?
since when did you grow-up,
old enough to say goodbye to Mom?
are you playing the guitar to make things familiar?

don’t worry. you’ll get used to it.

(Photo credit: Clarissa Walker)


it is five thirty, and I should be leaving

it is six, but I stay

it is eight, and I forget that the sun sets

live in the light while the world crashes down

persisting in denial, I swim without water, cry without tears


I am excited for life: as it unfolds there are continual surprises, twists and turns that provide me with a life that is better than I could have dreamed. I am excited for life: for there is a future, but more importantly, there is a present, a time when I can laugh, for I don’t know about tomorrow. But today: today is the day where the excitement is. Today is the day that I can see the world with new eyes and I can sign again and I can walk in the sun or sit in the cool corner and read and learn and grow. Today is the day when I can simply be excited, not because of anything special, but because I get to live. I get to live! I get to breathe each breath and choose: and it is exciting to make choices: most of all, to be able to choose what to do with the time I have right now. This is an exciting life: I am living and I am learning and I am loving, and I am here, today, smiling.