Good Omens

A sign your weekend won’t be awful’s
60 frozen Eggo® waffles
And a tub of cookie dough
Inside your freezer. (Need milk, though.)


Spiders giggling in low branches
Of the trees I walk beneath
Love my frantic, angry dance as
I yank webstrands from my teeth.

Chocolate Coda

My son and I played with the Pops
On Monday nights for years, and stops
For milkshakes (the McDonald’s blend)
Were how we liked our nights to end.
On cooler eves we changed it up
By opting for a warmer cup
And drank our chocolate hot instead:
We’d scald our tongues, then head to bed.
The post-rehearsal chocolate shake
Tradition took me months to break
But when my violinist son
For whom the ritual’d begun
Laid down his bow and headed east
For school, it sputtered, then it ceased.
Still, every now and then, I find
I’m missing notes inside my mind,
Especially when autumn drizzles
Fall, and my willpower fizzles;
There’s no way to fill the chord
Without some chocolate being poured.
On nights like those–and this is one–
I reminisce about my son
And I on Mondays with our sweet
Aprés-orchestral chocolate treat…
And then I put the kettle on
And sigh, because those nights are gone.


A window’s a hole in a wall or a door
An absence where something was present before
A kind of a shadow that lets in the light
In the daytime then lets it back out in the night
A glass-covered portal for light’s penetration
When solids pass through it’s called defenestration
When solids don’t pass through the glass it gets tricky
With humans it’s humorous; birds can be icky