There is something in my house.
They hide in the corners of my eyes
and disappear when I turn my head,
but the open cabinets and missing items
tell me they are real.
So if there is something in your house,
leave out a saucer of milk,
or a cup of honey now and then;
some of them like whiskey, others prefer cookies, some enjoy wine.
If there is something in your house,
even if you can’t see it,
perhaps especially if you can’t,
give them a gift.
These fairies, or goblins, or ghosts
will only return your beloved things
for a price.
Chocolate dipped oreos lay in neat rows
beside white chocolate pretzels
and beyond that is a few pounds of peanut butter fudge
Sour coated gummies sit in clear bins with scoops
beside a cascade of lemon drops
and a haphazard stack of boxes brimming with salt water taffy
Old fashioned ribbon candy lines the shelf below the myriad of chocolates
And the young person behind the counter
smiles at you
but it doesn’t reach their eyes.
some winter days are bitter
with biting wind that makes you work for every step
as your eyes water and your cheeks become windburned
it is easy to hate the cold
but other days
rare, beautiful days;
the sun makes friends with the season
so you can look up into its warmth
finding a reason
to appreciate the cold.
flower petals flutter in my chest
they flit and float
but refuse to lie still
Alone they are soft and fragile-
Together, they are a frenzy-
a malestrom whirling about with scores of razor sharp rims
wrenching the air from my lungs
and bleeding the dreams from my heart
an ode to 2020
I hope we find our wildest dreams,
whether that is realization or achievement.
May we run toward the grandest things
and leave the futile ones behind;
Take a deep breath,
step out of the shadows,
Winter came in with a snap of its fingers-
harsh winds, snowy streets, and skies full of flurries whistled through November.
Now Christmas is here
and we have nothing
This is a poem based off of this project on HitRecord: https://hitrecord.org/projects/4065979
The air is clear here.
It rustles through the trees
and lifts the puffy clouds
that spend their time
circling the sky-
no city smog
no angry horns or shouts-
just the endless horizon
and a long awaited dream.