Foxes and Magnolias

Poetry for keepsakes, for longing, for letting go.


Too many boys are in love with me.

Why do they love me

like that?

I wish I could love them like that



Last night we began

to come up with a language of touch.

One finger means this,

two means that,

three- us or we.

I wonder how full our dictionary will be

by the time we are 80,

still touching each other.


A little tribe:


my dog,


Every Morning

You said,

I want to wake up every morning with you

like this.


Ok, I said.


I wish time would wait,

let us have mornings together,

slowly, daily.

Girl Talk II

You walked away and she asked,

Is that your man?

watching the way you move.


I can’t claim you as anyone but your own,

but nodded, smiled,

as though to say,

We belong together.

Girl Talk

My friend said,

I like him.

I like the way you talk about him.