Name Poem

A pale face,

Visiting an unknown dimension where nobody can recall

An exceptionally proud mother who

Relaxes in holey sweatpants and a tattered, grey sweater

Intensely munching watermelon with

Eyes of dull green, like a pine in dark winter.

Grappling for a far-out, under-used concept

Red becomes cheeks, hot or cold-

Overly dramatic, to a fault- and

Vertically, not reaching high, but

Every photograph, endless rows of movies, an angel and my grandmothers’ jewelry are vastly important because

Sometimes life moves too fast, I must learn to slow it down and relax.