I was thirteen, and there was a boy’s mouth / where my legs met.

Suspended between lover and caregiver and not doing either / especially well.

I heard for the second time / the news of his heart transplant, / details like a post card from a foreign country

We were all one beautiful blend / of mama’s love. My brother, / the color of ecru, the other one / sepia, and me, ebony.

There is a woman in the booth next to us. / She looks at me as I remove my new hat.

When she finally dies / she’ll meekly ask God why was it all / clattering highchairs, whiskers on stained sinks

At Jenner-by-the-Sea we scurry / over boulders to the place / where the breakers bear down

I made soup tonight, with cabbage, chard / and thyme picked outside our back door.

You sit at a window and listen to your father / crossing the dark grasses of the fields

When Dave Wheeler fielded the hard one-hopper / to short, he fired the ball to Melvin White