Walk me to school like lovers do


    Before the world succumbs to the cold,


    gasping for air,


    standing six feet apart like imported trees


    dumping carbon dioxide in a strange dice roll,


    all zeros.


    Walk me to school like lovers do.


    Lost in your eyes,


    not the blinking news feeds.


    Tucking my hand in your jacket pocket,


    not reaching for a mask, clever disguise.


    Walk me to a place with tables and chairs,


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    people chatting over bagels,


    sipping hot chocolate on barstools,


    balancing a phone and baby in the food line.


    A world of simple pleasures—


    smiles, hugs, and this early morning walk.


    In need of a crew


    For seven months you were a boy,


    kicking out with feet eager to run—


    sailing the seas sinks into shallow shoals


    without a crew to man the deck.


    But when the pictures came back pink


    and rose-colored, we flipped the room


    and prepared for the arrival of a princess.


    You came out blonde, like a stray sun ray,


    pink tongue tasting the air,


    eyes the color of sea.


    Holding you holding the earth


    like astronauts do,


    up in the spinning expanse of black,


    nothing to hold them down.