1 we open at sunset

“we open at sunset.”


Why open at sunset?

Why wait until your flowers are dried out 

from being in the sun all day?

Is the store an after work hobby?

In my mind’s eye, I can see the owner.

The sun is low in the deepening blue sky.

The young man pedals quickly on his bicycle

and parks below the red and white striped awning.

The dark-haired man rushes to his plants 

who lie before him wilting.

He grabs them and brings them inside.

I cross the street and peek into the window.

The man tends to the leaves with a fine mister,

then soaks their dirt with a yellow watering can.

He lines them up on the table beneath the window,

rearranging them by size from smallest to tallest.

Before my shocked eyes, the plants stand straighter.

The leaves spread out to hold each other’s hands.

The man steps back with a happy expression on his face.

Our eyes meet through the glass.

He holds my gaze before turning away.

He’s seen me.

His eyes seek mine.

I hold my breath.

A slow smile wings across his face,

dimpling his plump cheeks.

His hand waves for me to enter.

I pull open the glass door as the bell chimes.

The fragrant scent of flowers wafts to my nose

from the shelves of plants around the small room.

I stand beside the tall and handsome man.

Together we watch the plants as they stretch their stems

to the sun streaming through the window.

I whisper, “Why did you wait a whole day to water them?”

He faces me. “That is the way.”

I scrunch my nose as I glance up. “What way?”

He smiles, and his dimples reappear. “The way of the prior owner who told

me to water them only at sunset, and that I should never forget.”

I shrugged. “What would happen if you forgot?”

His stare takes on a faraway look. “These are special plants that must be

watered the same time every day or else they will die.”

“Amazing,” I murmur.

The setting sun lights the plants with an orange glow.

The sun retreats to its bed for the night.

The plants follow suit and drop hands, their leaves standing up straight.

“What happens now?” I ask.

He smiles. “They go to sleep.”


His dark blue gaze falls on me. “Would you like to accompany me 

to dinner this evening?”

My head pops up. “Will you explain more about the plants?”

His dimples deepen. “Of course. And we can share our names.”

I giggled. “That’s right. I don’t know yours.”

“But I know yours, Amy.”


He takes my arm and places it in the crook of his. “All will be explained.”

To be continued





Let’s have a happy day

no matter what people say.

Put on a happy face

and pick up the slow pace.

Turn that frown upside down,

can’t let life bring us down.


1 Faces to the sky


Faces to the sky.

Lift them way up high.

Smiles so bright and wide.

You’ve nothing to hide.

Yellow hair to the sun.

It’s time to have some fun.

Long, green leaves clap to the song.

This morning, nothing is wrong.

Deep roots rumble in the ground.

To a beat, you’ve lost and found.

A field of dancers shakes the earth.

I watch as I bubble with mirth.







I ride the train each day.

For this, I need to pay?

No seat I can see.

Never is one free.

I hang from the strap above.

A soft sigh feels like a dove.

I turn my head to the side.

And do you know what I find?

A girl standing next to me.

One as pretty as can be.

She offers a small smile.

Now I could walk a mile.

I stand up taller than before.

I am now ten feet off the floor.

A slight smile before she departs.

I’m left happy as my day starts.




Elevate your body through the air.
Lift up your fins.
Your pointy face to the sky.
Dance for me.

Let the water flow down.
Back into the ocean.
But keep yourself high above all else.
Dance for me.

Give me your wicked smile.
A little laugh. 
Show me your endless joy.
Dance for me.

I want to see your special dance.
A clap or two.
A little twist for me.
Dance for me.



Yellow face loop.

I can see you through the fire

In this dark place and not higher.

The Dead are coming to town.

I will wear my happy frown.

The town will be no more.

This is what I’m here for.

To tell you the true story.

So you won’t have to worry

Of what will come to bear

When the evil comes here.






I’ve never been a happy person.
More of a serious person.
So what does happiness look like?
Is it the smile on a mother’s face?
Is it the laughter of a toddler?
Is it the loving look of a lover?
Look around you.
Do people really look happy?
Or do they look preoccupied?
Maybe a little impatient or hurried?
Do people even look happy at a party?
Some may be smiling.
Some may be off to the side, watching.
If you supply some liquor,
Then you might see some happiness.
So who is happy?
My dog rubbing his back across the rug
Is the epitome of true happiness.
Animals have cornered the market on happiness.
They are content to be alive.
We should learn from them.