by Alison

my dear husband will

always be six years younger

despite his first gray

by Kelly

How many hours have

I spent inspecting my roots?

the sky, too, turns gray

by Alison

fifteen years later

I’m still cooking broccoli

with garlic and oil

by Kelly

I reverted to

my natural color — brown.

Now grays are showing.

by Alison

in my pocketbook

written on an old receipt -

last summer’s haiku

by Alison

While Grandma visits

daughter asks amazed, “Was you

a little baby?”

by Alison

middle-aged and strong

a woman drives her tractor

through fields touched with gold

by Alison

and this year she knows

REALLY KNOWS it’s her birthday -

Penelope’s three!

by Alison

old tables, dishware,

velvet chairs thrown by the curb -

everything is free

by Alison

now I remember…

playing “nap time” with my mom

and tucking her in