Language of Childhood
Keep your eyes peeled, she says,
and I am gone
combining eyes and grapes
And my grandma finds the house
on her own
What’s in the bag, goose?
She asks, and I am gone
wondering what a goose might keep in a bag
and why?
My heart is stranded, an empty parking lot
and a flickering light, while
your eyes say a leaving I know I won’t survive
There are places where everything changes; others where everything stops
finding the difference
is critical
I Took A FerrySoftly lapping waves
Cherry blossoms fall slowly
On Nami Island