poems
-
On the eve of a long weekend when I know so little of my time will be spent at home, I present “Home,” my homage to the sanctuary and hive of life that sustains my soul in so many ways. “Home” expands upon the sterile dictionary definition of home, birthed out of a five-word poetry…
-
Grappling with loss… In the past three months, I’ve “lost” two people I deeply admired to cancer. Though I’m grateful that their suffering is over and I know they’ve “shuffled off this mortal coil” to skip the streets of gold, there’s still a natural grief. And though they have left this temporal realm, their lives…
-
Monday morning. What should be a fresh start to a week frequently feels like a Normandy beach landing. Before my eyes have time to adjust to the pre-dawn twilight, my alarm shocks me to attention. My vessel, the warm confines of my down-quilted bed, arrives suddenly on the shores of a new day, and, whether…
-
Few people probably agonize as much as I do (at times) about what words will follow that blinking cursor on the screen. How should I reply to that text? How should I phrase this email? Should I even write anything at all? Usually, we don’t take the time to think before we reply. I know…
-
The deepening ground, both as a site and poem, emerged from my recent fascination with Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time Quintet. More specifically, it took root (pun intended) in my mind after listening to A Wind in the Door during a long car trip. I knew I’d have to come back to the book…
the deepening ground 