My mother came from Wyoming
A land of wind and sky
All her life
Wherever she roamed
She carried a scarf in her purse

~ Robin J. Phillips, March 10, 2021

I’d love to meet you for 
a cocktail in the lobby 
of an old midtown hotel 
We’ll snack on peanuts
and make up tall tales
about locals sitting at the bar

~ Robin J Phillips, Feb. 24, 2021

There should be a word for the pause
Right before we laugh together
The little moment 
When our eyes 
meet and we realize
Nothing more needs to be said

There should be a word
For that breath we share
As you sing
A cowboy song into my ear
Swaying to the rhythm 
Before our lips 
Our lips
Touch 
The breath
Right before we hold
Our breath

There is no word
So, my love, 
I love you 
Will have to do.

~ Robin J. Phillips, Feb. 13, 2021

Did I ask for a lonely for Christmas?
I don’t remember putting that on the list
But OK thanks Santa
I’ll take some time to decorate
My lonely

For my lonely, I think I’ll add
some friends from far away 
to wave at on the little screen 
I’ll celebrate with shrimp cocktail 
(I’ve never made one but I’m sure I can) 

And maybe I’ll buy my lonely a new puppy 
to join my old dog 
They can smother me with kisses

~ Robin J Phillips, Dec. 22, 2020

This has been going on so long and is all so familiar that people have created a cutsie nickname for the danger outside.

Seems like we’ve hit the sand
In this long-distance run
Knee-deep in water
We push forward
Leaning in at the waist
Making progress
Still holding hands

~ Robin J. Phillips, Nov. 15, 2020