I didn’t used to like poetry, until I realized I had been reading only rhymed lines and pale caricatures. Real poetry is taken from life, unpinned and powerful. The following “found poem” was taken from the Bible, King James Version. I saw a star fall from heaven to the earth to dwell in a salt […]
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In the front corner of our front yard, beside the driveway and the road, are two huge rocks. In the opposite corner of the yard, also facing the road, are two more. When I say huge, I mean rocks that are almost as tall as I am (five foot, three and three fourths inches) and
Bola Bagti Dadaab refugee camp, 2011 This poem I wrote several years during the 2011 Somalian refugee crisis. I post today in honor of the Somalian refugees and refugees everywhere. I also want to say “Thank you” to all of America’s sworn-in citizens. You add much that is good to our country. I watch as
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In honor of Mother’s Day, in honor of Mom–my hero, my confidant, my problem solver–I give you a poem. I’ve entitled it: Pink Quartz Dedicated to Mom, written for Mother’s Day 2011 She’s like pink quartz, I think. This is strange because she most often wears blue. Pink quartz is flaky and delicate as pastry—
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On a foggy morning one early March, I met a tiny woman encased in a puffy tan coat. She had black hair with a fur cap perched on top of it, the hair cut short except for a thin trail that hung down her back like the tail of a ratty old Indian dog. The planes
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