When the Time Travel Agent Asks When and Where

I choose San Francisco because I miss ocean air. I’ve been sleep walking in a dusty valley but the air in San Francisco is cold and saline. When you walk through it without a hat or scarf it’s bracing. You feel alive. I choose 1967, imagining the Summer of Love, thinking I might land in … Continue reading When the Time Travel Agent Asks When and Where

Delta Breeze

One more poem of mine to finish up National Poetry Month Tonight you sit on the front steps facing south beckoning me with your dry lips your moist fingers. I am already here but I am still and you do not recognize me. I press against your skin, a sweaty companion: I am hot and … Continue reading Delta Breeze