The Leaf
Written during the 1984/1985 school year.
I’m falling!
Falling slowly to the ground.
Drifting
I’m drifting
on a breath of air
Softly,
I’ve landed on a
soft, green surface.
I’m not afraid,
Anymore.
Written during the 1984/1985 school year.
I’m falling!
Falling slowly to the ground.
Drifting
I’m drifting
on a breath of air
Softly,
I’ve landed on a
soft, green surface.
I’m not afraid,
Anymore.
I was cleaning out my fiction and poetry files this weekend in preparation of renewing my efforts and found this weird little poem I wrote on Oct. 16, 1995. In fact, I don’t remember writing it. It’s in my handwriting and I do remember the line about the streamers, but everything else was like reading…
This poem came out of my grieving process when I lost my Dad in January 2011. Death, for the living, is strange Someone you love is there even if they aren’t a part of your every day life and then Suddenly the world goes “poof!” and they aren’t there anymore just echoes of memories And…
I first learned about Haiku — a Japanese form of poetry — when I was in the second grade. I remember being fascinated by the rigid structure — three lines, 5-7-5 syllables — and simple structure. As a part of that class work, I wrote the following: Swaying blooming rose Red rose sways blooms wind…
Recently I was blessed to experience a connectedness with another person that was so intense it took my breath away. It was a connectedness I haven’t felt in a very long time (if ever). It was a connectedness that was spiritual, emotional and physical all at the same time. And, for the past two weeks…
This poem was written circa 1975. I’d forgotten all about it until my mother called me and told me she wanted to read to me a poem written by a 9-year old girl. When she was done, she asked me if I remembered it. I said it sounded familiar … maybe I’d read it on…
Written Feb. 15, 1991. Feed me I’m hungry Hungry for Knowledge Love Understanding Am I a gaping wound or a black hole? The analogy is moot when compared to my hunger my need my desire Help me I’m drowning drowning in an ocean of famine of frustration of possible ignorance You hold the food that…