Thank you to Ruben Baca at Necro Publications for publishing two of my poems in the "Youth" Issue of Necro Magazine.

Say Cheese

“Say Cheese!” my best friend told me, 

in that quirky way she would whisper,

right before the photographer snapped the eighth grade class picture.

Before the prints could be returned, her family abruptly moved out-of-state.

I hope she has had the most hair-raising opportunities, 

such grand hair-raising experiences to match those we survived 

during most of that school year.

But more than that,

I wish for her to have had many beautiful, joyful ‘say cheese' moments

throughout all her seasons and in the many lands

to which she wished to travel;

on a beach covered by sand up to her waist as her skin turned pink,

wearing snow shoes and thick parkas while walk gliding across an ice glacier

as her nose dripped,

atop a camel before Giza 

feeling as if she would be bowlegged for eternity

after the dismount,

wedding day cake cutting, 

post birth photos as a new mom,

family reunions,

graduations, both hers and those of family and friends,

her eighth grade heart still intact.

Sad Passing Youth 

The best of friends, all so close.

Six different cities sent these sons and daughters

to this place, at this time,

to the Nexus, the axis, the center,

where hearts met and became glad,

concordance almost spiritual,

differing talents, dreams and hopes, but many the same.

We had each other's backs,

took meals together with no worries of tomorrow,

or that we might ever part for the last time.

For then it was enough for the moment to share bread,

to listen to each other's tales,

learn of each other’s lives,

to speak of the world and its meaning, for us, then.

Although summers were spent apart,

with letters flying back-and-forth,

the autumn brought a reunion of mirrored hearts and minds.

Open-minded, fearless youth;

you taunted us,

and pulled us into a safe cocoon, assuring lasting calm.

We, as those before us and those to follow, 

fell prey to your temporary charms.

How we resent, yet long for you at the same time,

You are not the peaceable condition you professed to be

at that long ago time.

None will be wiser than we,

Not until they are as we are now, 

but let them enjoy, and revel, today,

for sadly, passing youth is all too brief.