Some Poems

Grandma’s Sun Room

Grandma once had a sun room in the duplex up

on the hill. It was her space, laced with all things opulent,

including a telescope to spy on outer space. Upon

my first view, I saw multiple falling stars, and Jupiter

too. But maybe that’s an embellished memory made up

by the child in me. Children’s minds honestly operate

out of whimsy. For real, the room appeared transparent

with floor to ceiling windows imploring light to occupy

every square inch. A Swarovski crystal menagerie opened

my eyes to hundreds of rainbow refractions dancing upon

the wall. Twilight was the most beautiful time of all. Opposite

the cascading glass, a hearth warmed what wasn’t appeased

by the sun. I made a space of my own in this room, plopping

my whole self on the plush white carpet to line up

my marble collection, one by one. The sun knew how to pop

the aquamarines, indigos, greens, pearls, pewters, and coppers

in each, making them even more special to me. The room’s view proved

an un-ironic contrast. Capturing Casper’s un-developed

hills: rolling brown with sagebrush, bold sky, and antelope.

Looking out from my white glass orb, I suppose

the plain, uncomplicated wilderness warmly appraised

my introverted existence. The sun room was a place

I could escape from the noise, the conversation, the competition. A place

where the only gaze I had to face was that of the twinkling crystal blowfish upon

the shelf. Transparent

to me, the world around. Transparent

to it, all of me. Safe, though, in a glowing space

full of soft white noise, created by Grandma.

Looking at Life in Limericks

The pin said to complicate things.

I thought, “Well, I know what that means.”

But I didn’t know

It’d become my motto

Or quite just how true it would ring.

Because when we talk about race

It seems we have one saving grace:

To essentialize

And homogenize.

But then other issues take place!

Identities do intersect,

And privilege comes with context.

We must find a way

To come out and say

It’s not always what we expect.

We simplify things: black and white,

In efforts to make wrong stuff right.

But let’s take a stand,

It’s often: both/and

The complexities tend to shed light.