Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
Laurie Klein and I first met online after I’d been following her work in print for a number of years. We share a common decade and a love of poetry and song. I then discovered she was blogging and we’ve been corresponding ever since. Laurie is the author of the prize-winning chapbook ‘Bodies of Water,…
I never dreamed one day I’d be parsing a picture book explaining to five year olds that yes, a black man was shot by someone who hated him because of the color of his skin, and before he died he had a Dream for children just like them. After the story (required), they—with their earnest,…
“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…
Thank you, Jesus, you came to The average everyday of us, Chose dwelling in limited space, Smiling your vast smile at our Smallness as we reach for our evening beers Down at the local, Baring our souls as we join heart and soul With our friends. You sit back and rest with us in our…
Water, is taught by thirst Land-by the oceans passed. Transport–by throe– Peace–by its battles told– Love, by Memorial Mold– Birds, by the Snow. Emily Dickinson, 1896 ~~~~~~~~~~ no snow here, friends, not yet. but plenty of birds and poetry.
It’s your breath in our lungs As we pour out our praise, Pour out our praise, It’s your breath in our lungs As we pour out our praise To you only. All the earth will shout Your praise Our hearts will cry, These bones will sing, Great are You, Lord. It’s your breath in our lungs…
“The whole universe was stilled as though listening for a voice. For the space of one heart-beat there was peace on earth. For one fraction of a moment there was no deed of violence wrought on the earth, no hatred, no fire, no whirlwind, no pain, no fear. Existence rested against the…
First item on the grocery list: postage stamps. In ALL CAPS. I’ve written it down three times this week, only to return with pasta, bread and milk, but no stamps. This necessitates an emergency trip to the drugstore; I HAVE to get my Grandson’s birthday card in the mail. While the counter clerk rings up…
I came as a witness, the extra listener, to deflect and defend, maybe decide what this grief will look like. The suited man at the table tells us there are options for this sort of thing. My daughter L holds a tissue, I poise my pen at the paper before me. Burying a child is…