every pumpkin knows
you need just enough air
for the candle to burn,
just enough shelter
to keep the flame alive
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged marriage, poem, poetry, pumpkin on October 31, 2017| Leave a Comment »
every pumpkin knows
you need just enough air
for the candle to burn,
just enough shelter
to keep the flame alive
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged fortune cookie, poem, poetry, success on October 30, 2017| 2 Comments »
I wanted to believe
the fortune cookie,
wanted success to come
as easily as crunching
through a tasteless wafer.
I carried the red message
in my wallet for months,
as if to remind myself
of my great impending success.
How curious, the gap
between the life we want
and the life we have.
Finding the small white scrap
last week, I set it on my sink
and read it again and again
as I brushed my teeth
then stepped out into the world
without it, ready to write
my own fortune, my pockets
unabashedly empty, each
next step its own trove
of unusual riches.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poetry, pomegranate, woman on October 29, 2017| Leave a Comment »
Like a pomegranate, full
of hidden seeds.
That’s what they say
about a woman’s mind.
What they don’t know is
exactly how juicy
those seeds might be,
how full of sweetness,
how red, how if they
were planted, the world
would never look
the same again.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged poem, poems for kids, poetry on October 28, 2017| 3 Comments »
wanna play?
says the mud
to my feet
*
laying in the grass
letting its thousand fingers
tickle me
*
wishing on a star
that is wishing
on me
*
pages torn
the old book holds
no less wonder
*
asking the donut hole
if it has any idea
where the donut went
*
sorry about the flour—
the pillow igloo
needed snow
*
guess it wanted
to fly kites, too,
that cottonwood tree
*
wishing mom had a pocket
like a kangaroo—
I might even stop bouncing then
*
someday that light switch
is going to look up
to me
*
making a pact
with the lemmings—
let’s all run in circles!
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged falling in love with the world, poem, poetry on October 27, 2017| 1 Comment »
Again this call
love the world—
though there are men
with buttons to push
who could turn it to ash
within hours, though
people have tongues
that fork and curl,
though the things
and beings we love most
disappear.
And still this sweet
metronome of breath
ticking here, here.
And the scent
of the leaf pile,
loamy and playful.
And the pansy in October
still purple and soft.
Turn to the sun,
let it touch your skin
like a lover, so tender,
warm. Now spread that shine.
It’s what we do.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged children's poetry, poem, poetry on October 26, 2017| Leave a Comment »
night with no moon
making friends
with the dark
*
finding a ring on the ground—
the world and I
get married
*
trading places with the wind—
at least it doesn’t have to
eat vegetables
*
finding the perfect shell—
giving it back
to the sea
*
belly flop!
you bet I’ll
do it again!
*
not my fault the spaceman
came with confetti—
cleaning my bedroom anyway
*
jumping off the swing again
hoping this time
I grow wings
*
do streetlamps get lonely?
giving one a hug
just in case
*
why does it always
fly straight,
this boomerang?
*
hopscotch in the rain
all the squares
run away
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged cat, death, emptiness, loss, poem, poetry on October 25, 2017| Leave a Comment »
on my lap
the emptiness refuses to purr—
it is all that I hear
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged memory, poem, poetry on October 24, 2017| 2 Comments »
still trying to erase it,
that memory, though I threw out
the chalkboard long ago
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged aging, poem, poetry, truth on October 23, 2017| Leave a Comment »
How soon the flowers wilt.
Wasn’t it just yesterday
you planted them, just an hour ago
there were mounds of bloom
shining in the rain?
You want to believe there’s a flower
that never stops opening,
want to believe that flower
is you.
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged parenting, poem, poetry, potatoes on October 22, 2017| 2 Comments »
Just today, in the garden,
I found dozens of dark blue
McHugh Blue potatoes,
hard and small, their
delicious fists hiding
in the cool soil.
How wonderful the world is
if you just dig a little.
All those things you planted,
they show up, even though
everything around them
looks dead.
Don’t be in a hurry,
the woman said,
and I realized
I was wishing away
these difficult days.
Imagine how patient
the ground.