Poetry at 50, in the US, as a woman [white], 2021, during a pandemic, in a glorious & painful spring, a flash poem, in four parts

by | Apr 29, 2021 | Acceptance, Aging Gratefully, Alzheimer's, Content, Culture Shift, Essays, Flash, Getting Lost, Gratitude, Grief, Neighbors, Pain, Pandemic, Poetry, Respite, Stillness, Strength in Real Life, Unapologetically Odd, Uncategorized, Wayfinding, Women, Writing

1. Our flags always fly at half-mast now.Wide and unhealed wounds on high for the world to seeflap dripping loss and pus rains down into the public square. Below themwhite men, whips still in handand a few hard-yoked women, their heads downplodding alongfacing only...

What I’m Made Of

by | Jan 26, 2019 | Artists, Dragons, Freedom, Here and now, Magic, Nature, Poetry

Thanks for the fun prompt, Natalie Kinsey! I wrote this poem for fun two years ago, on January 9, 2017. Just re-found it. Forgot to publish it. Whoops. Since it still rings true, seems worth publishing now… What I’m Made Of I am made almost entirely of...

The pull of springtime and the Borg

by | Apr 24, 2014 | Nature, Poetry, Silly

bees up to their knees in swollen pollen tulips rise kiss the day apples blossom giggle, blush and run away frogs harmonize in undirected choir damp soil winks to beckon seed earth preens her baby greens nudges buds from ground’s nest puddles twirl feet to lure...