The Price is Right

Summer mornings I would lay

on my grandparents’ bed and watch

as contests were called –

“Come on down!”

They all loved Bob, wore shirts

with silly slogans

about their desire to be chosen.

 

Now, I watch it while he naps next to me. 

There’s still slogans and shirts,

but it’s Drew that they love

and I can’t remember

how close you have to be to win

both showcases.

Visitor Remnants

She is a connoisseur of sunsets,

treks up to the highest window each evening

to compare the colors in the sky.

“The East is better tonight.”

“My favorite is when it goes red.”

“This one is picture worthy.”

 

Now I turn the blinds and gaze

at the them too, wonder if the sunset

in her sky made the cut tonight.

 

The Emptiest Moments

Your absence manifests in different ways.

 

In D.C. it was the nights,

the table bare of games

like Skipbo and Phase 10.

 

Here, it is the mornings.

No one to greet us as we come down;

he has no coos of “little bug” to grin and kick at.

 

In those moments the loneliness

turns brightest.

Mama Said

We hugged curbside,

the Sky Priority sign blazing

behind us.

 

You said: You can do this.

 

(My mind flashed –

you with babies 13 months apart,

one who never slept [I’m so so sorry]

and no handy mechanical pumps.

Traveling baggy-eyed to work and back

home to raise us.)

 

And I believed you.