Tag Archives: Poetry

Poetry Reading

The lines he wrote were scratched in ink, some smears along the margins.  Folded words he penned to her with loops of L’s and O’s in Bic he borrowed.  Rhyming words with silly pleas to never leave him, figures sketched … Continue reading

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The Pie

The rhubarb leaves, ruffled fans waving from rosy fingers, signal his daughters like marine flags on the ship, to man the battle stations of piedom. From childhood, they watched him head to the garden after work, in dress shoes, shirt … Continue reading

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In the Parking Lot of the Hospital

Two security guards in matching navy blue polo shirts walked through the automatic doors, keys jingling on their black belts.  Crossing the driveway of the hospital, they chatted. With one foot on the sidewalk and the other in the road, … Continue reading

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Siblings

The other children come, but never steal the spot.  The second laughs at rules and tells the jokes.  The third has Daddy tied in knots. They follow not, but make their way along the stream.  The eddies swallow weaker sorts, … Continue reading

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First Born

The oldest one becomes the first to walk and talk and drive.  His parents smile and cheer each time he uses “ potty” or a spoon. Conforming and absorbing life while strapped inside a seat, he sings their songs and … Continue reading

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Oysters

He’s a bold man that first ate an oyster- Jonathan Swift “Fresh paint, “ he snapped, “is what we need,” the walls an oyster white.   No cultured pearls inside the varnished shell they shared, the ruffled trim a drizzled gray.  … Continue reading

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A Mother’s Prayer

Children, breathe in the sunshine that ripens the blueberries, gooseberries and rhubarb, your favorites.  Please, protect each other and your earth.  Open the door and smell the fresh cut grass.  Brush the lavender with your fingers and taste a licorice … Continue reading

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Only One in the World (except for that one in Vegas) Landmark

Steel stilettos click on the cobblestone, her svelte angular figure clothed in black Chanel, of course. She surveys streets on the Seine behind Ray Bans.  Aproned waiters take orders, “Un café, s’il vous plaît.” The scent of espressos and fresh … Continue reading

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A Guide to Hunting Wild Boar

My uncle craved the hunt and dreamed of herds with bristled hides and tusks to mount. He paid for tours and veteran guides to track his prey. The squeal of gelded hogs released from trucks incited primal urges. “Neck,” he … Continue reading

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Second Thoughts

We never should have stepped off the path, you know, because the moss stained, the moist leaves stuck, and the woodsy odors of fungi and earth clung to our hair. We should have kept walking, admiring the light diffused through … Continue reading

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