Sabbath on the Page #2

Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶

I silently knock on the Kindergarten door, helper for the day in my Assistant Teacher role. I love Kindergarten. I did my student teaching there—sang a LOT of songs and played games and sat on the floor and learned words. Today is one of those days—a learning day—except I am the student. I teach in a very…
W CROSS R D S Lamb. Perfect. Hung. Alone. Naked. For me. Abandoned. Blamed. Spit on. Mocked. Forsaken. For me. Loving. Spotless. Alone. For love. Blood poured out. For me. Broken. Crying. Praying. Dying. A garden beginning, A garden His ending. On a hill he hung for…
Emily stands tall at her desk, right hand pinching the corner of a zippered plastic bag. Plunk, clack, plunk–colored wooden pattern blocks drop in a kaleidoscopic jumble in the bag. “This was so much fun, Mrs. C! It’s the most fun we’ve had all year!” The most fun they’ve had all year. I’m not sure…
Our dining room is topsy turvy. Kitchen chairs and barstools are hidden and stashed in a closet in the bedroom. There’s no room for but four people at our dining table. The living room bookshelves now attend the table, stacked on their sides and emptied, banana boxes stuffed with the contents. Pieces of furniture…
Because I cannot do 500 words a day every morning and well, frankly, wonder at those who do. From my files (circa 2008, long before this blog.) ~~~~~~~~~ I hate it that I am so sporadic Inconsistent, not persistent, no straight ahead in a line to the finish. I’m distracted, side-tracked Stops and starts,…
Husband in the Firetruck, Son Aaron behind him DIL Courtney in front, daughter Leah on right first grandson Hanan (now 22) Daughter Leah practicing her mad chef skills 1982 ish; Leah and Aaron with their Grandpa Paul The smiling little boy above? He has (now) 5 children of his own. Here he is with…