If we were lions

this kind of self-esteem
wouldn't taste so bitter.

College Contemplation #267: What Is, Is Good

What is,
is good.

What could be,
is better.

until it is,
what is.

What was,
is good.

as long as it is far enough away,
from what is.

A Promise, an Apology, and a Definition

Because columns
are what these poems would be
if i wanted them exactly understood.

They say I should be sleeping now

But I say we should do more
than 'survive'
even the most hectic days.

A Day: Subjective

When the sun and temperatures fell
the rain turned to snow and shimmered down.

In the dark of the morning the calendar clouded;
in the dark of the night it cleared.

Later, the everyday angels harkened and sang,
a room full of sound and voice and choice.

A girl with Shirley Temple hair played teacher in the afternoon,
and for once the mentor sat on the floor and belonged.

Dinner was held in the computer lab,
typing turned dancing with friends gathered round.

At the end, walking in rainboots was more than a stomping thing.
It was a looking up and seeing thing. And so many things were winning things.

Because finally, finally, the rain turned to snow.
     Then how easy it was to ignore - rain shimmers too.

We Expect Too Much of Christmas

When we hang the tinsel on the tree
we think of who will see it there
and how it will shine at the party for new year
and not at all about the what it feels like
right now
when the tinsel tickles and the tree smells like winter

because then we would have to see the ornaments' reflections
of glazed-over eyes.

I wish we would look.