9

outside my parent's window

many birds are looking in

hallow bones and feathers fractured

in streams of sunlight

in one window

my parents, on the second floor

are looking out

because their bed has become

a water fall, that rushes and gushes

from the well, constructed

1964, my father's father

iron soaked

separate from the rest

it is not alone
-Hannah



at the train station, the night has settled
cars rush by, headlights float on as white orbs
the sound of their tires over gravel
the smell of the sea quietly settles

behind the wheel of mom's car, stare ahead
the rhythm of the tires' rotation
soft green glow of the dashboard through the dark
space between streetlights, one hand on the wheel

in an unfamiliar room, sleep sitting
morning sun through the windows warms the room
its light can be felt, even through closed eyes
content; still, melancholy comes in waves

homesick for a home that no longer is
Home
-KM

8

there are listings for tiny houses
all over, in states and on borders
on land or wandering with wheels
so, in spare moments, daydreams

of pulling out the good bowls and
bringing all big picture books and
nearly 100 sheets stacked and
making raised beds in sunshine

all this while eating lunch standing up
or sitting on the subway ears covered
all this sitting in a circle with children
or passing doorways and windows

the future grows in a tiny room with
soft voices and candles and flannel
-Hannah

Water runs wide, it nourishes the land
After winter it carries the snow away
Their spring union, it was something unplanned
Carelessness keeps them bonded to this day

A dream saved up for, by penny, by dime
With the passing of time, their dream crumbled
Much too tired to continue their climb
Efforts fell short, they started to stumble

Inspections to pass and contracts to sign
Spaces to empty and boxes to fill
Eighteen years to sort through in one month's time
Pack it up with these dreams left unfulfilled

These rooms will be filled with echoes and dust
Spaces emptied, memories kept with us
-KM

7

there are always 7 days
1 moon in the sky
while many eyes look
for colors

6 sets of walking feet
right eye revolts
1 big blanket of fog
out over water

at night in a basement
8 voices sing out
many mouths smile
and pairs of eyes

time passes
7 x 24
-Hannah



up in rooms, walk through unfamiliar doors
construct illusions of products for sale
rush around in cabs, hours spent in stores
erase traces, impatient for the mail

flowers tied with string hang from the ceiling
one by one they dry, slipping from their knots
afternoon: headphones on, eyes closed, healing
movie on for noise, don't follow the plot

less sneezing today, but math does not add
over and over play the same five songs
it is temporary, this feeling bad
notes echo through hallway, narrow and long

"I don't want to set the world on fire,
I just want to start a flame in your heart."
-KM

6

Wherever I go, my mess comes along
Shirts, socks, and paper stuffed into a sack
Through darkness, the red porch light glows so strong
Fall asleep sitting, staring into black

Bare grey trees blur as we speed down country roads
Wait in the car, listen to oldies play
Flames flicker and grow, casting shades of gold
Re-live the same hour twice in one day

Wind through the hills, breathe in deep the morning
Abandoned cabins, only bricks remain
Look through glass: outside, inside, traveling
Lines of red and white lights fill highway lane

Return to crowded streets, loud noises, bright lights
Return to our own homes, own beds, own lives
-KM

my teeth are like tiny soldiers
in a divided state
1/2 are ready to desert
leaving the other 1/2 so lonely

but my mouth and my head are connected
they cannot leave without those
so that the 1/2 ready to desert
tremble in angry pause

The others pour hot tea
and hold ice cubes hostage
sit-in silence
try to remember each other

it's not an emergency,
yet.
-Hannah