Front porch at sunset.
My feet in your lap. You smile.
“Happy eighteen months.”
Quarterly potluck theme: PJs and pancakes
Long wooden table,
Seats shared, like a bench (like kin).
Laughter through the night.
Exercise in acceptance
Cuff, ankle, turn the heel.
A project for anywhere.
Boxes fill bedroom.
Women in Civil Rights Movement
Rows of squashy chairs.
Four activists share wisdom,
reflect, inspire, lead.
Absolute beginner’s ballet, level 1
Practice pirouettes,
Quarter turn, half turn, full turn.
Now, about spotting …
Happy hour with former colleagues
Old faces with new;
Four tables pushed together.
Like I never left.
The coffee shop with the fig and anise scones
Spider plants in mugs.
Blue grass band sets up at six.
Afternoon work spot.
Saturday we wore green to a house party
Limerick contest,
Corned beef, cabbage, soda bread.
Annual rite of spring.
My partner and I arrive separately to dinner with friends
“I’ll take her; you: him.”
Real updates cast off small talk’s
cloak, on the drive home.
Scene from my writing couch
Windows south and west:
Leaves glisten, buds pop, birds flirt.
Light glows all around.
Jessica Yen 