For your birthday, I wish I could give you the 4th of July, fried chicken packed away in the basket, although they say, “You shouldn’t eat that” these days, and homemade peach ice cream kind of feeling.
Tag: poetry
When and Why We Write
Sometimes when we write, ... we're really writing for someone else. Authors write for ourselves, too, otherwise: Why do it? Now, I am grateful to add poet with my author achievements because two of my poems will be published later this year. My therapist asked me what she thought was a strange question: "Can I… Continue reading When and Why We Write
Rainbows
Who am I to debate over whether you can really put your hand in the ultra violet rays, or to say, "The rainbow never existed anyway."
Things We Never Fabricate: A Corrie Poem Read Aloud
https://youtu.be/8KItm5PFa3w Corrie, as I mention in the poem, in rain boots at the beach. This is the grave I mention in the poem. She has new balloon and a flag. As I put down the box made of a basket’s weave next to the space where Baby Alex rests, an angel statue lays on its… Continue reading Things We Never Fabricate: A Corrie Poem Read Aloud
Pages Written by Shakespeare
I remember when you sat by my side, and cut a plastic plate in half to make a mask with my students on the screen.
Our Commonality: A Poem for All Who’ve Lost
... we put away their treasures like the porcelain cocker spaniel they kept next to a vase with a necklace around its neck, and in which new sunflowers were placed every Saturday.
Questions I Ask: A Corrie Poem with Corrie Spirit
I hear her voice call me, "Mom-mae," and I see her throw glitter in a room with Whitney Houston and balloons.
The Age of Superheroes, A Poem for my Children
... I hear a voice from the seat behind me. It sounds like the beautiful result of God's experimentation in laughter.
My Dear Son, a Poem
My son was deeply disturbed by last week's events. I wrote a poem for him. My dear Son, I wish I could believe in a wish upon a star again in the same way I wish I could make the world a better place for you because, at only ten, you know dreams slip away… Continue reading My Dear Son, a Poem
A Poem: When I Let Anger Go
Once I held anger close as a child holds a teddy bear.
Corrie's Season 