nothing was said
but twice I sang
as John Cusack held his arms
up to my car stereo
so Peter Gabriel could transform
that simple route
into a path of endless lights

©Erin Croley

she refuses
to pick vegetables in the rain
because "I am not from Oregon
anymore"

the difference of twelve months
is too much today
but she is happy
to share our harvest

©Erin Croley

this person I keep
on repeat
who breaks and then
bends
must be a ghost.
the reflection is too distant
and old
to be me.

©Erin Croley

It was only 2.85 miles...but it was awesome!

I've spent the last few days watching my kids chafing their dream, literally. Hours on the sand and in the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of North Carolina, my two kids have built sand castles, collected sea shells (and a few pistachio shells), learned to jump over waves and ride them to the shore, and swallowed lots of sea water. They've also developed chafing sand burns on their arms and legs, not realizing it until they hit the stinging bath water after a day of pure, pure joy. 

no matter the blue skies
this thick air
steams and steals
the day
from its potential...

so we wait
for the stolen lights
of dusk
to revive us

©Erin Croley

show me

sculpture becomes stage
pretend animal parades
for applause-

he sweats and smiles, sweeps arms
and leaps on to the next
exhibit

show me again
a better way
to appreciate
art

©Erin Croley

Inspired by an afternoon of Playing With Our Art at Laumeier Sculpture Park in St. Louis, Missouri...

someday
my little man
will be an old man

with a single eye on his journey
and the other on this moment
I try to be who he needs
now and then

©Erin Croley

her demeanor
is so demure
life a freight train

eyes rumble into yours
softly listening
for what you neglect
to say
she asks

©Erin Croley

a divided sky
and dark thunder near
alert us to the coming storm
but we are still
mostly Portland
so will wait for lightning strikes
to shelter

©Erin Croley