35

At 6:41pm the landscape changes
as scrub pines rise from sandy soil
and my elbow leans on tomatoes
encased in plastic between you and me.

We arrive in daylight while my right eye
is red and the walls are white.
In the morning and through the night
the ocean crashes through fog.

So I think about little cat feet
and drink tea in the morning.
Slowly my voice rises
to the usual volume.

By the lake a little bird protects
from a wide-winged hawk.
-Hannah



The fog was so thick over the ocean
Casting a heavy shadow beyond white boats
Sharp edges of water and sky dissolved
Melting blurrily into endless grey

"Undermined bluff: keep back 25 feet"
Clay earth plunges down to the tumbling sea
Water meets so violently with the earth
Ocean's wide spray catching gleams of sunlight

Stacked rocks down below lined the dirty coast
Rust, pink, white, grey mix; they're ever-changing
Bones and shells of lifeless, displaced creatures
Roll with rounded rocks in the retreating tide

Salt left behind on stones sting shoeless feet
Waves slipped between rocks on their way back to sea
-KM

34

Left with a water fall
rushing in my ears.
A swarm of bees
between my eyes.

On the train standing
with people, feel a faint
storm in my stomach.
Outside sit on sidewalk.

In school, watch kids
and say no words.
Glands like tree trunks
swallow sorrily.

Two days of antibiotics
and it all goes away.
-Hannah

Thirteen ways of looking at:

A mother and son dressed in white

From left to right, every hand occupied

Unseen leaves shiver, casting shadows

Beauty and plainness in sharp contrast

Time imprinted more heavily on some faces

Age weighed down some of the bodies

But all move with intentions to take care

Two young boys close in age being fed

A day neither recalls but knows happened

Unknown hands hold the camera

Twenty years ago, this balcony held a family

Spring or summer fills the sky with greenery

Shiny cheeks revealing the day’s heat

-KM

33

On Sunday,
you are twenty-seven
and I am next to you
smiling,

in this year of firsts
I am cataloging
loving moments in charts
and with letters.

In the evening,
I will be baking you a cake
with fruit or with chocolate.
On Sunday I will travel

upstate with a waterfall
in my ear.
-Hannah

his sonnets were taken
From poetry and writers admired
Lines he loved he re-connected
I didn't know

Landscape alters as
Buildings go up and down
Trees die
Signs rust

I can feel I'm getting older
It frightens me to think
Am I out of newness
Can a day feel endless

There are many ways to read signs
Removed from their true intention 
-KM

32

Throughout the night when
I woke up next to you

dreaming of baked cookies

and blueberry cobbler.

Cobbler toppled in my

fathers hands and

I became upset and

Samson was not there.

In the morning I woke up

next to you

I heard words about your 

dreams.

I'm happy you're

here. 

-Hannah

I hadn't looked out the window to see
It had rained, only a light drizzle
The window fogged up with condensation
Cool air filled the room as the door opened

Distant clarinets trailed up the front steps
I watched as you walked out the old screen door
In a coon-skin cap you turned and looked up
An electric smile softly glowing

Black eyes shining in the cool May night time
Looking up to meet mine behind windows
Up on the second floor, soft yellow light
Of the holy family right beside me

I know I'll always remember tonight
Distant jazz and laughter hang in the air

-KM