She sings me songs. Her

voice is a whisper. She knows 

what my heart might need.

"For here you are, 

standing there, loving me whether

or not you should."

                  -The Sound of Music

He had on a button-
down shirt and our kiss at 
midnight was awkward.

Speaking of that New Year's
Eve, I don't remember it 
particularly well. 

I was twenty. There 
was sweet vermouth on the rocks 
and a New Year's Eve.

He stroked what he thought 
was the baby's leg, but it 
was really my hand.

The cat slinked across 
the yard. Unaware was the 
bird of its demise. 

She squished dandelion 
seeds in her fingers. I saw 
wonder on her face.

Sometimes you have to 
make a million things before 
you make one thing great.

The day felt so dark. 
It wasn't, completely, but 
it sure felt that way.

We traipsed around
Barcelona with cards until 
we got asked to leave.

My writing is sad.
It won't come out today. It 
wants to be alone.

That city was so 
clean, I'd thought, and no one was
out before seven.

I called to tell him
his grandbaby lost a tooth,
he said, "So did I." 

They ashed, flicked then kicked 
their cigs to the street at the 
same time. It was weird.

Ready on the set.

Scene one, take one. Lights, camera, 

action! CUT! And scene.

I write about me
'cause that's what I know and 
I think you'll understand.

The story haunts me 
and will for my whole life. I'll 
dream of it tonight.

"When times go rough
won't you lay me down in tall grass and 
let me do my stuff."
                                    -Fleetwood Mac

As she moved by I 
heard her hip pop and I felt 
I knew her better. 

I asked him to dream 
about me and all night I 
wondered if he had.

A mended fence works 
as good as new, just a spot where 
the wood is brighter.

Call me a hippie,
hipster, free-lovin' liberal 
and I'll call you cool.

My heart is a leaf
blowing away in the wind. 
Never just resting.

His harmonica was
sweet. It brought tears to my eyes.
Then he stopped playing.

The gargoyles are 
there to protect my heart. By 
now they're cracked and old.

I'm living someone
else's dream and daydreaming 
away my own life. 

He lives his own dream
out there while I'm in here living
someone else's. 

The moon came out 
early to greet the world. She couldn't 
wait to hang with us.

I could tell by his 
sheer glee that something bad was 
about to happen.

One is loosing her
teeth and the other one is 
pushing her teeth through.

The sounds of 
Superman, a fire and lady babies 
chomping cookies.

I remember 
biking in the snow and ice, sad 
hearted in Boise.

The sky was everything 
today. Black, blue, rains, winds, 
white clouds, sun and shine.

Life, the tragic art.

We couldn't do without sirens and 

muses to guide us.

I would venture to
say that villains aren't caught 
chillin' all that often. 

The baby laughed through
the door window as I raked 
the leaves in the yard.

The conversations
I have now start with, "Hello"
end with, "Don't touch that!"

From my front window
I watch the cars drive by, the 
people walking, too.

It might've seemed that
way, but I wasn't sleeping. 
No, I was dreaming.

I am not okay 
with what you said and I want 
it out of my head.

He went through the whole
newspaper blacking out all 
the e's with a pen.

Her wet paws made 

little prints on the porch and it 

was crazy adorbs.

I'm so happy. It 
makes me elevated and half
scared all the damn time.

I don't wanna write 
a poem tonight! I don't, 
I don't, I don't!! Waaah! 

I had to rake the 
leaves before I could write. I 
had to clear my head.

I raked up the slug 

with the leaves, but it was too 

late. He was compost.

I like to think, 'Who's 

behind those dark windows and 

what might they be like?'

She got the wind in 
her hair and was gone. I was 
someone she once knew.

Witch and Werewolf live
deep in the woods and leave only
when the moon's right.

She's thirty-two years
younger than I, but her wise, old
eyes make me shy.

Just as I picked up 
the bags of groceries I 
felt like a mother.

He's always so glad 
to see her and when he's happy 
his face turns red.

You must fight the 
power with love, not anger. It's 
the only way.

The sun is shining,
but it is of no comfort.
Some days are like that.

I saw her heart break
a little as she looked into
his cool, blue eyes.

A witch's work is
never done for the moon  
rises again tomorrow.

The light in her eyes
sparkled brighter than anyone 
else in the room.

He was content 
shouting at the clouds, dirty and
laying in the sun.

I was teaching my
child to tie her shoe and I 
recalled tying mine.

Something quite witty.
A quiet, simple giggle.
A moment they shared.

He chased me through
my nightmares and into my
daydreams and I'm so tired.

I kicked up my boots
and drank a glass of sun tea while 
the autumn sun shined.

While I do not fear 
you, Death, I forbid you to
knock upon my door.

I dreamt it nights

ago just to relive it again

in the sunlight.

oh to be the small 
spider and build your home
wherever you like it

When I have bad dreams
it's always the same him chasing 
me every time.

The spiders spun the 
most glorious webs under
the full moon last night.

The golden leaves fall
from the trees, lay in the earth,
and sleep the long sleep. 

True, we're not the same.
We're different people with the 
exact same problems.

I didn't put away 
the dry goods, but I ate toast
and wrote a poem.

I figure mermaids
have sharp, scary teeth and don't 
where shells on their boobs.

The ghosts shake their bones 
and rattle their chains to remind 
you they're still here.

I know you want out, 
cat. You're doomed, my little 
flower in the attic.

I wait for the babe
to sleep so I can write then 
stare at a blank page.

The siren fell sad 

each time she saw a sailor for 

she sang him his death.

The crows didn't move

as the cars passed. They just kept

eating the opossum. 

The yellow leaves fell 
around them as they lay in 
the sun. Oh, sweet them.

The moon looks so close
I could touch it, but I can't
and so I just look.

The winds blew her hair.
The sunlight shone on her face.
The earth made her way.

My grandfather dug 
a hole, planted a start and 
called it "Michelle's Tree".

Thinking all I 
needed was the trees, a river 
and a great big sky.

I want a Sunday
laying in bed with you, my 
head on your shoulder.

It's all around me.
From the sun that I embrace 
to the air I breathe.

From her car to her 
toes, her heart to her hair, that
one's got it. She's it.

I like walking in 

the shade in the summer and 

in autumn the sun.

You don't need to 
believe in something to be good.
Just believe you are.

I dreamt of you all

night and, in this dim light, I'm 

dreaming of you still.

"Crazy has places 
to hide in that are deeper 
than any goodbye."
                 -Leonard Cohen

I always mean to 
take a picture where the phone 
wires meet, but I haven't.

It felt swept away 
and lay there on the floor as 
I gazed upon it. 

I'd never understood
the park bench 'til I saw the
world in which it lived.

She pulled the glove 
onto her hand slowly, but not
so that it took long.

I feel inspired and 
I want to walk. Walk from this 
shore to the other.

The night is cold. Our
bodies snuggle into warm.
The morning is far.

She tried to touch his 
right hand, but he just kept on
texting somebody.

The wind moves me 
across the land and someday the 
land will call me home.

This book has been loved.
So loved I'm afraid the pages
will fall right out.

"When I'm stuck with a 
day that's grey and lonely I 
just pick up my chin..."
                                 -Annie