To My Mother, As Always
All I want in life is to be like you.
Have an ounce of your beauty, your strength.
Everyone asks me, tells me, “you’re so kind, you don’t have to be” but I expect it from myself because I learned it from you,
I see you walk before me and I am a incomplete version, a copy that is so much my father but as I grow, I find your face is in my features.
You let me dream in the highest castles,
Bring me back to earth when it’s time.
You never believe me when I tell you all of these things.
Maybe you will read them.
This poem is for you.
August In July
It is my favorite part of the summer.
The air gets chilly at night,
Like fall is reaching out the window and blowing kisses onto my cheeks.
I watch the sun set over Classon Avenue.
The street is quiet as Sunday mornings,
The moon shines on my back as the sun sinks beneath the skyline.
It gives me my life, it gives me my words.
For the first time in a long time, I find myself writing.
tonight i am not scared to grow up
for a long time,
i was afraid to grow up.
that just as the grass and the sunflowers and the cattails grow,
strong and tall and beautiful
So do I.
Ode to My Mother
There is a woman I know.
She is brave, and she is beautiful.
Her hair looks like mine,
Her eyes see mountains when the days are foggy.
Her hands are my branches and her arms are my harbor,
I see her in spring daffodils, in rainbows, in sunny skies.
She walks with a courage along the road,
Gives me a path to follow.
When I am strong, I see her spirit in me.
I beat poems out of me like eggs for banana bread.
Wrangle them off to do lists,
And beat the words off my bean boots.
I wish they’d flow like rivers out of my hands.