A Story In the Air (102018)

i saw him on a Thursday

found out his story was tragic on Friday

knew why on Saturday

his birthday was Tuesday

i didn’t know then

he was beautiful


beautiful boy, what are you running from?

i don’t think he even knows the answer to that question

post-traumatic stress

and the things he can’t forget


i am so sorry

but i am sure they all miss you terribly

i, too, am mentally ill

and i know they’d miss me still


i’m four days older than you

but some things are more the same

we have two sons

we couldn’t make it work

running away doesn’t sound so bad

sometimes things don’t make sense


and i’m desperately trying

to handle your story with care

i am a story-catcher and

a storyteller


beautiful boy, you are not alone

beautiful boy, i wish i could see

you smile


please go home

they’re waiting for you

California will always remember you

but Ohio’s heart breaks

beautiful boy, go

notice posted/return to sender

a week ago you said it’s simple
i said it’s complicated
this week you say it’s complicated
i say it’s simple
we’ve made a mess
but it’s beautiful
you’re wrestling
trying to settle your own heart
i’ve ripped off the label
that said “handle with care”
but i don’t think you’ve noticed
that i can’t break in the same way
i used to
i’m posting a new sign
“free, please take all”
and i’ve drifted back
to the only home i’ve ever known
all you gotta do is
turn on the porch light
and leave the key under the mat


thru my lense: Home


i feel at home in these shoes
mostly because i can’t be in his arms
i was wearing red Vans
the first time i fell in LOVE

the first home that mattered
was the one i found
inside his arms
and after that, in his car

a Volvo, 1987 244
it started out grey
but he painted it black
and then he took it apart

couldn’t figure out
how to put it back together
just a few days after he left me
he sent the car to the junkyard

both of us he swore
he’d never leave
i hope and pray he can keep
our promise to our babies

there is a roof over my head
a beautiful ceiling of wood beams
a solid foundation underfoot
and yet i am homeless