Walk me to school like lovers do

  Before the world succumbs to the cold,

  gasping for air,

  standing six feet apart like imported trees

  dumping carbon dioxide in a strange dice roll,

  all zeros.

  Walk me to school like lovers do.

  Lost in your eyes,

  not the blinking news feeds.

  Tucking my hand in your jacket pocket,

  not reaching for a mask, clever disguise.

  Walk me to a place with tables and chairs,

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  people chatting over bagels,

  sipping hot chocolate on barstools,

  balancing a phone and baby in the food line.

  A world of simple pleasures—

  smiles, hugs, and this early morning walk.

  In need of a crew

  For seven months you were a boy,

  kicking out with feet eager to run—

  sailing the seas sinks into shallow shoals

  without a crew to man the deck.

  But when the pictures came back pink

  and rose-colored, we flipped the room

  and prepared for the arrival of a princess.

  You came out blonde, like a stray sun ray,

  pink tongue tasting the air,

  eyes the color of sea.

  Holding you holding the earth

  like astronauts do,

  up in the spinning expanse of black,

  nothing to hold them down.