please don’t go: a poem

grief comes in waves

or so they say

feels like it comes

in hurricanes

I feel angry

I want to scream

sometimes it feels

like a bad dream

I wish I could’ve

eased your pain

helped you find

a better way

close my eyes

see you again

striped green sweater

my old friend

contagious smile

soft blue eyes

I trusted them

a million times

you saved my life

I couldn’t save yours

how badly I wish

I could settle the score

don’t pull the trigger

you know, I’m begging

I know your burden

it’s heavy and weighing

I’ll bear it with you

I’ll stay up all night

talk with you

and hold you tight

I know you’re gone

I can’t help but pretend

that you are with me

here again

-in memory of a dear friend


charmaine/ time-travelling: a poem

mindlessly scrolling, I wait in the doctor’s office

I close my eyes

the melody playing softly

lifts me off the sticky leather seat, out of the lobby


eleven, standing in the music room, practicing my alto sax, tiny fingers, barely long enough to reach every key

sharp! b sharp!

he corrects me from the living room davenport

I blush, embarrassed at my fumble

I start from the top, try to get every note right

I want to impress him with how much I’ve been practicing

no, no! more vibrato! you’re ruining it



try again.

fingers flail awkwardly


the door pushes open

he huffs and pretends to be upset

house slippers and ascot cap, holding his tenor sax

“okay, let’s take it from the top”

he winks


fingers dance purposefully across the keys, he closes his eyes

I smile, blessed with the sound

the door creaks open again

Grandma smiles, taking a break from cooking dinner to join me and Grandpa

she takes her place at the piano bench and just when I thought it couldn’t possibly get any better, she adds

infinite magic


there are lyrics to this song but they aren’t necessary

nothing could make this moment better


kaitlyn? the doctor will see you now

not now, please. can’t you see we’re busy?

just let me have my song.


open my eyes.


Grandpa’s gone.



Finer Than Frog Hairs : 11×14, Acrylic on Canvas, Kaitlyn Davis 2018


In Memory of Ernest Charles Edwards (1919-2017)