monthly visitation with the flowers on Park Avenue
tonight I apologize to them for Tattooine
at the hour of parent-teacher events on the Upper East Side
I see there’s time for me but for them it’s long decided
when church bells blare everywhere I go
and smoke from wildfire chokes the shadow child
I can’t write until I know they're safe
when the blooms align I find my mind
and I can look it in the face
All ‘Work in Progress Wednesday’ poems are…my works in progress. As I reach 25, I’m wondering if I should put together a chapbook. Let6 me know if you have ideas.