In my NaPoWriMo World – nothing. It’s apparent I’m not going to be able to participate this year so I’ve given myself permission to be ok with it. My days seem to fly by and, honestly, I seem to have lost interest – for now, anyway – in writing poetry. I find myself more drawn … More What’s Happening
I have two poems up in Burning House Press today. Much thanks to Burning House and Bola Opaleke, guest Editor and Poet extraordinare, for selecting them for publication. These were originally written when my mother was ill and just after her death. I didn’t share or submit them for six years but I felt now … More Poems in Burning House Press
Cicadas’ calls rise and fall on the waves of late summer. I snip and neaten heat weary petals – wait for nature to change her clothes.
It’s April and Winters icy fingers still clutch at bark and stem. It’s a push and pull between cool and warm, a daily battle. Tiny tendrils, with fierce determination, push toward the sun, a little taller every day. Nodes swell, green pops her head from her hidey-hole. Spring will not wait. *** No prompt today … More Things are Starting to Grow
Wind chimes serenade our walk around the garden, dogs sniffing under bushes and I watering and pinching plants, scent of rosemary, basil, mint, I bring fingertips to nose, inhaling the green of Earth Mother in a slowing of growth, a resting time before sleep.
When I saw you working in the garden, how tenderly you handled the newly-sprouted plants, the attention you gave to the soil mix, your practiced eye navigating the perfect spot for planting, I knew you were a man mindful of life’s small but necessary details. I knew you were someone with whom I wanted to … More Napowrimo 22/30: A Gardening Man
Lament for Mandevilla The rain falls turning life yellow, stealing nourishment. The vibrant red of new beginnings hangs pale and drained. The sky is a thief one day, a savior the next. ***** Another day of rain in New Orleans. Even the tropicals have had enough. My poor Mandevillas.