Goodnight, K.

The way your eyelashes
Drift down, down, down,
Up,
Down,
As you fall asleep in my arms
Causes a tightness around my heart

Right there where you lay your head.

Homecoming

An ache,
The creak and grind of tires on snow
Air snapping with cold
And moonlight.
What is it
About winter
That trembles with some silent longing?

On Mothering, Sometimes

I have felt flat

Stale

Tired, like an afternoon classroom full of already-breathed air.