May #21

Warm sun, cold winds -
let's get rid of those.
When will it be summer time?
Let's complain about the heat,
go for walks in shady parks
and have picnics
until the ants get in the food
and the grass isn't comfortable
and the ice melts into the lemonade.
Let's go fishing
at odds hours of the morning because
that's when my dad insists we'll catch fish.
(But we won't.)
Let's go out on evenings,
let me dress up in summer dresses,
catch fireflies and trip
over high heels.
Get rid of long pants,
hoodies,
sneakers.
I want barefeet or sandals
swimsuits and tanktops,
summer skirts swaying as I walk.
When will summer come?

April #3

Looking back
at all these things I've done,
I flip pages
in photo albums
which I realize I am now thankful
for keeping.
I read old poems
that I wrote years before,
most of it
mediocre at best.
But still I must appreciate it,
its inherent value,
as a record of who
and what and where
I was in life.
Oh, how we change, how we are all
so mutable with time and love and life.

I have one prayer, and that is for you,
my constant, my rock.
Let you not change from me.