Rows of trees have grown

where I once only saw square houses

lined up among dusty roads.

The snow doesn’t fall so lightly

with the rain scratching the mud

and the spring leaves struggling

to grow.

I’m watching the birds pickup sticks

and build new summer homes.


they build after the harsh winter season,

and I wish it were that simple to go home.

Summer 2013

The warmth
of the sun in the sky
and on my skin
is reflected in the white of my heart
and burning my eyes
on your smile.

The sand in my shoes
between my toes
scrapes scars into freckles, falling, forgotten.

Soft winds embrace us.
The winter in our hearts has gone.