age difference

in my youth, 
my family took me
on road trips all over the country.
I drank coffee and tea
with women who were wise
and men who were haughty.
I witnessed the aftermath
of how forceful
and beautiful
nature can be.
when I stood at the precipice at Cappadocia,
where I gazed upon
the breathtaking fairy chimneys.
I trekked underground
through tunnels in hidden cities,
built in secrecy for Zoroastrian refugees.
I took in the sight of cisterns and minarets,
raised up in former centuries.
I walked barefoot, without pain,
all across the greatest salt seas.
walked from Harlem to Brighton Beach,
it took me 16 hours on feet;
that one day in New York,
back when I was in my teens.
I saw,
read,
learned,
grew,
and found pieces all over the world
that fit a part of me.
Still,
as I piece myself together day by day,
I know that I am not complete.
I know that,
when my aching feet,
brought me to you last week,
I felt at ease,
at peace,
but still almost childlike;
even though I am thirty,
and you’re only
twenty-three.

baby fever

I never want to be a mother.
Even though,
I love to teach,
and I yearn to help a child
see life through the lens of beauty.

I never want to be a mother.
How could I be a good parent,
when I never learned the ways,
from my mother who once said:
“You were the biggest mistake
I have ever made.”

I don’t want to be a mother,
but I do
want to cook for a child and say:
“Look at all the different ways
that you can make eggs;
which one do you like the best,
my love?”

What Brings Me Joy

The smallest things in life bring me joy;
seeing my husband smile,
hearing my cat greet me at my feet,
the smell of fresh pastries,
and the warmth of a cup of tea.

I love using my hands to create;
beautiful little boxes for tidy drawers,
paper flowers that last forever,
drawing, painting,
crafting, and writing.

I find joy, sometimes bittersweet,
in memories, keepsakes,
and personal treasures that remind me of
a time when I laughed from the heart,
a place where I was filled with wonder,
or a person whom I loved.

Quarantine Life

I’m just tired
of you treating me
like my father did my mother.

I’m tired
of you slamming doors
and raising your voice at me.

You tell me not to take it personally,
but how can I not,
when I’m the only person around?

Quarantine Life
brought us closer,
so you want to go far
away from me.
Distant.

I love you,
but I’m tired.