After School

I wish I could’ve told her
Someone should’ve told her
That Friday, after school
She radiated! 

Light bounced from her hair
Every which way forever
Stayed with her and it wouldn’t stop
Shot from each strand straight through her

Causing what must be
An eternally electric smile
So I’ll tell the lightning gods
Do not forsake her in school

Steward of Skies: A Haiku

Dear John, I love you
for proposing our hearts hear
the quiet, the roar. 

The loon’s skidding feet
across glassy still tables
for to glacier meet.

The death then new life
when lightning then lumber clashed
you championed this.

Be still would this land
and her creatures take her hand
in fellowship one. 


Healing can’t come
Bit by bit, in scraps
As you think it ought
In this place at least 

Healing won’t flow
Warm and unnoticed
And make the heart red again
In places it’d paled

Healing will rather
Be absent and stealth
Then with lightning speed
Jolt you back into place