A little boy wails
The chase after a beach ball
The sea won’t return
Category Archives: childhood
Summer, 1983
Long after dinner
I learn of long dead cousins
Even dusk is gone
the summer of 1980
i guessed carpe diems one last sunday before school drawing on wet sand
Atacama 3: Mining Town Brat
I try hard but I see just one thing
A park with a single tree and a single flower
A Field Trip, 1986
Behind the willows
We knew not what kisses were
So we picked pebbles
Photo Album
Some lucky children
Every day a world tour
And each tear a cure
spring, 1982
a clear fate awaits
the last kid at the party
silence or kindness
Winter, 1983
Brown toast, cocoa milk The killing of a sidekick My living room thrills
Sunday in the Park
Lost on my forehead
The wind jumps to your pigtails
You make it dizzy
At the Vice Principal’s
Gentle misnomers
Spun for everything we broke
Our mothers' kindness
A Living Room Carpet, 1978
I found an atlas
No weight, no distances left
But mistery lands
Pacific Noon 11
A green world today
Beyond the pines there's the sea
And kids clad in weeds
Winter, 1982
Last sunbeam on a bare tree Time for tea and toast Birds and kids, come home
Summer, 1982
Deep into the night Cheers and jeers and flushed faces Ball games on the street
The Fall of ’85
I found the cool kids
Star-struck by their inner jokes
My laughter yellowed
Uncle Scheherazade 2
'Storytime!' she demands.
I have no other choice
Than staring far and hard
To find a worthy tale.
She's left it to my hands
To weave her thrills and joys,
I am her fool and bard.
Tonight her golden sails
Fight sharks and siren bands
In search of girls and boys
So tall their hair is starred,
Each footprint a vast dale
Where fairies at the strands
Await her in sweet poise
Atop the dragon guard
With whom she'll break new trails:
I give her magic lands,
She gives my heart a voice.
Cold War Kid
Good night, Doomsday news,
I’ll dream of ICBMs
And radiation burns
spring, 1980
call a child stupid and they'll chew the bright inside to see if you were right
Children on Road Trips
The are we there yets
The look ats, the sing-alongs
The endless I’m hungrys
And at the heart of it all
The secret joys of silence
a tale of the tide
the rock we conquered
will go from desert island
to lost continent
Pools
Low tide Magellan
What passages for bare feet
What isles will you find?
Last Day at the Beach
Golden kids today
The shifting wind is saying
Gray kids tomorrow
Valentine’s Day
Mom’s date is going well
But not as well as Granny’s
Play-Doh jewelry
Pacific Noon 7
Daddy’s on the phone
Sweetie finds a shiny shell
Mom’s on the phone too.
How a six year old taught me a lesson before her bedtime story
I’ll turn to your side
And I’ll hold your hand real tight
To seize the moment
rincondeltraidor 