Fresh Breeze

She'd come home
Giddy with occasion
And open every window
To the frigid night sky
"Letting the New Year in"

Her flurry of movement
All petticoats and perm
Wafting the zest and strength
Held within her tiny frame
Like the very breath of spring

As I work the blade into the painted seals
Of windows she'd never see
It's that spirit I'm clawing to invite
Longing to throw open every window
And let her in

Letter To My Younger Self

Letter To My Younger Self

I’m sorry that it’s taken me
so long to think of us as we,
to own the person that you were
as part of me, not just as her

I’m sorry that I still might cringe
when thinking of that eager, ginger,
loud and frantic little girl
so hungry to embrace the world

if only to squeeze out a friend,
a kind word and a happy ending
full of talent, life and spark,
making all she looked at art;

the view from up the cherry tree,
the ever-present scarry knees,
the constant choosing different names,
the romance trapped in dancing flames.

I’d tell you that your teeth get straight,
Your boobs arrive (they’re worth the wait).
That you’ll get kissed by someone who’s
been dreaming just as much of you

But most of all I want to praise
you for the hope that fills your days.
Your dreams and spirit were the key
that unlocked the me I’m proud to be.