Salty like hot dogs (and tears). Sweet like marmalade (and life).
Fifteen months ago, I started seeing a therapist. I remember at Hutchmoot, in one of those first years, a musician/artist talked about his therapist and then said, “Everyone needs a therapist.” There was a smattering of laughter, so he said, “I really mean it.… Continue Reading “Leaning Into Me”
I’m beginning to anticipate What his response might be — My mother blamed “the others” For things we didn’t see, But my father’s not a blamer So, when he can’t explain “It fell down from the sky,” he says, Like some mysterious rain. I… Continue Reading “Rain”
A friend said, “Write a poem,” to help me start writing again. So I pulled up a poem that had been sitting in my draft folder and tried to finish it. It’s not perfect but Brené Brown says that we should have the… Continue Reading “Tell Me Something Good”
My hair was blonde when I was small But it grew dark as I grew tall My mother had the same thing too — Blonde that darkened as she grew ’tis a funny thing — this natural blonde — Some maintain, and don’t respond… Continue Reading “Blonde”
“Oh, I see you’re a barefoot girl this morning,” my father said, looking at my feet. I was indeed barefoot, as is often the case when I’m still in my pajamas. “A barefoot girl with shoes on,” he continued, smiling as he said it.… Continue Reading “Barefoot Girl”
An original Sea Shanty (1) Captain Hopkins had a schooner Eliza was her name Come hear the story of her wreck “tis such a crying shame She sailed out from Hyannis In April 1899 Heavy seas when she departed Though the morrow’s forecast fine (2)… Continue Reading “The Wreck of the Eliza”
I have a little troll who likes to visit me; The pleasure that he gets from it is more than I can see. He crawls out nearly monthly, from underneath his rock, And writes a little comment full of unkind ugly talk. I’ve tried to… Continue Reading “Trolls”
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat that doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me… Jenny Joseph Three “old” poems — one for my grandmother, one for my mother, and one for me. When I am old, I… Continue Reading “Old”
I was delighted to learn that the pussywillow is waved on Palm Sunday in many Eastern and Slavic churches. “The Pussy Willow is also our Easter symbol,” said Father Czeslaw Krysa, rector of St. Casimir’s Church in Buffalo, in a 2013 article. He said that… Continue Reading “Resurrection Branches”
i thank You God for most this amazing day: for the glittering icy brilliance of snow and the pink-streaked watercolor dawn; for the bare branches of trees whose tiniest twigs point upward, upward, upward, reminding me there is more. thank you for the take-my-breath-away… Continue Reading “Cold Morning”
