Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
The thermometer affirms
our arrival at Autumn,
the droplets on the deck
declare in dew
that the air
is too cold for the water,
changing it to
liquid on the glassy,
warm surface.
I wonder, does
the Living Water
perform the same miracle
when it touches
my heart?
do change….
“In the beginning” begs the existence of a dot, the endpoint of a line referencing time and movement, like an ant on the Golden Gate Bridge. If there is time (now) and movement (how?) why do we shun this guess the size of a galaxy, turn from the possibility of a God placing us just…
If you give a writer a journal She’ll probably say “thank you” (exclamation point) And wonder where the nearest pen or pencil is. If she finds said pen, she’ll take to writing A es a pee. Once she starts writing there’s no telling When she’ll stop—why THINGS COULD HAPPEN. People would be…
Vashon Hardware, Vashon Island, WA Rudyard Kipling begins his classic “If” poem, urging me to keep my head when all about me are losing theirs, and I’m certain my head–and its grey matter contents– will soon explode for the sums and ciphers impinging on the brain space I. do. not. have. This is a necessary…
“Samara,” she said and the words took flight in my hearing, invisible windborne flora soaring across my thoughts. She spoke of wings, a divine creation spinning towards earth to plant itself like a stubborn weed-fierce and stuck. Imagination took root, sending me flying home towards Webster’s– ‘some-are-uh’ – and there a black and white drawing…
“Stretch” must be a biblical word, regardless of one’s age (an extension, a straining) like a two-year-old reaching on tiptoes towards her Father, not unlike the discomfort of unfolding old bones and well-used knees, joints so stiff they’ve forgotten how to bend. I want to stress and press past the comfortable,groan with the growing, the knowing that dailyI must…
Friends and family leave words on screens and phone lines, dropping voices and laughter like golden pendants rippling across the surface of my morning. Bookends of baking–pies first and the turkey last– include potatoes, The Green Bean Casserole and sweet potatoes in between. Chimes outside echo on the warm wind of a rare November day,…