Changing Places
Changing Placeshe turns the door knob --discovers she’s too illto awaken yethe’ll take their daughtersto the mall for play and food --let them find ice creamIn a later lifeMother guides his new wheel chair --two girls skip aheadtoday grandparentson sideline bleachers -- children running free

Clearing Space at Four
Clearing Space at Fourso small the little broomI swished from side to sideas I passed around the bendout of sight of those watchingthough they fearedme lostI swept on and onmoving sticks and stonestoday I push my penacross my pagemaking clear the linethought uncoiling as I gopresent to myselflike that morningsmoothing out my wayeven in a darkened woodI am never lost

Only One Memory
If I possessed a memory of that timeit would be the moment in that rental carwhere we pulled onto the gravely strip andslid the windows down, wide open, to seabreezes pushing into our heated spacewhere skin reddened in the glint of sun,and sparks broke through our shield, glimmeredover cliffs, shimmered in the ocean spray,unruffled by our gaze, unstoppablein our pause in the middle of our liveswhere we are no longer looking outbut reaching, foreverfrozen,eyes attending onlyto the other.

Accessible
Structural bonesbeneath my skinhalted early,devious denialprepared to complicate.I blamed my height, the lack of it,for ladders, missteps,and not being chosen.I stretch to reach,to peek, lean out frombehind the podium,before I speak.I extricate obstacleshope you do not escapewithout my image, a remembrance of how shortnessclimbed into your view.

Time Before
Time Beforeshe remembers muchabout the years thatfollowed that dark nightbut not much of thetimes before when he owned his voice,his leg, his arm, theday, an easy flowshe writes on and onhoping to conjureby the inky flowbeneath her pen, thetimes beforewhen shaded coolnessfrom the sycamorefell, all gathered roundone summer afternoonbushel baskets full, ofbutter beans and peas,where she sat watchinghis fingersspread and guide the heartof her listening toplop, plop fall in panshis filling easy like his Mom’s, his a