Virtual Connection

a free verse stream of consciousness poem

Virtual connection with nearly ten thousand people—

My ancestors never knew

such kinship and overwhelm.

My body is separated from the laptop

with a thin mustard yellow blanket.

There’s beauty in these human voices.

There’s beauty in these typed out words.

People on my screen or in?

Probably in.

My sweater is warm.

My bare feet are cold.

Outside, the air is nearly still.


Photo by Marta Branco for Pexels

Head to Toe

a free verse poem

My bed still isn’t pushed up against the wall the way we talked about, but I don’t mind that. What I mind is that it will be half empty tonight and not nearly as warm.

Speaking of mind, I can’t seem to get you off of mine. My brain leans into thoughts of you the way my body might lean into a reassuring hug. I feel embraced and not suffocated by that presence. I didn’t know that was possible.

I remember your arms. I think of how they look reaching, how they look working, how they feel safe.

I used to fantasize about fantastical places and a luxurious life, but this safety is more than enough. In fact, it is what I didn’t know I was searching for. It is everything I ever wanted.


Photo by PNW Production from Pexels

If I Were

the blades of grass

A Free Verse Poem

If I were

the wind whipping through your hair

on late night drives with the windows down

after the rain just stopped,

leaving the road shiny and slick with wetness

and the smell of damp asphalt still permeating the air,

would you then believe

Continue reading “If I Were”

By the River

The downpour must be waiting for something.

A Free Verse Poem

All the spent brush littering the hillside to the right,

mostly brown to the left as well,

railroad tracks not far behind, hidden by the slopes.

“I swear it’s beautiful in the spring.”

Continue reading “By the River”

Lost in the Fire

used my spirit as kindling

I built a campfire over me, used my spirit as kindling,

added some branches,

layered log after log, log-cabin style,

lit it with a match.

The wood burnt,

things shifted after being singed to dark and lifeless hues.

More branches,

matter changed,

chemical reaction,

all the same.

I’m now trying to find the ashes of myself at the bottom.


Photo by takenbytablo from Pexels