dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: death

We are born polka-dots
Light pink spots for toes and cheeks.
Weeks of cribs and dangling shapes
Leave us spinning like pinwheels,
We feel breeze and bugs crawling,
Sunshine and hugs, and sprawling out,
We spread our colors around
Giggle sounds, as beach balls,
Tapped by older, happy hands, we float
Down to a perch among the shrubs,
Our shiny surface rubbed by flowers as we sit as garden globes
Until we grow continents and oceans
And are set in motion like the earth itself
In a room inside until our spinning charade
Squeezes and fades us into a single pushpin,
A marker on the map that used to be our sphere,
But plastic, seared and deflated,
We can resume our place.


Lightning bugs

In Mason jars

And poster board

Butterfly collections,

Death so natural

And pleasing to the eye,

Life all at once

So free and trapped

And unable to fly.


You smile
As you rip calendars
With your teeth,

Wanting
Summer to come soon,

Hopefully
This semester won’t take long,

Maybe
We won’t feel tomorrow.

The way your earrings dance
When you cock your head
Says cheerful small talk
Is your specialty.

But I hear death’s
Hollow shouts
Echoing in each drop of
Honey that slides
Down the sides
Of your mouth

And sticks
To the day planner
You clutch on your desk.