(the smell of a coffeehouse)

the smell of a coffeehouse:
one of the things I fell
in love with in college

Snow Garden

Our yard was a garden
of snow and our father
was the gardener. He
made snow forts and
an obstacle course of
sorts for my sisters and
me in the front yard one
winter. It was an exciting
adventure, and a little
bit scary, but I felt safe
knowing that Dad was
guiding the sled and
guarding the fort. I still
remember his laugh
that day as we squealed
with delight, holding tight
to the orange, plastic sled.

(last glass of eggnog)

last glass of eggnog
on the last day of the year
last sips; last seconds

Christmas Time

Spices and glitter mix and mingle
with cozy, jolly food and folks
as carols and choruses jingle
in rooms full of stories and jokes.

(hot tea:)

hot tea:

a comfort and

a companion

Thanksgiving Traffic

Three miles in an
hour and a half --
bumper-to-bumper
interstate congestion and
stomach indigestion,
angry drivers with
hungry kids, no
exit in sight, and
no explanation.
Arrivals delayed;
hugs and hand-
shakes on hold;
dinners postponed.
It was easy to get
irritated and impatient,
until we saw
the white sheet
on the ground.
Suddenly, we were
thankful for the
fume-filled air that
we were breathing.

(The narcissist has)

The narcissist has

a bottomless appetite

for power, chaos and control.

(Red, gold, brown, green and)

Red, gold, brown, green and
orange leaves form mosaics
on neighborhood lawns.

(And just like that,)

And just like that,

I have a new 

skin tag.