Why The Sun Shines So Brightly Today I’m certain that todaythe spirits are holding up the sun. That death is sitting on a benchsipping a strong orange pekoe in Washington Square Park – the black fenced in yard where the dogs play. I’m certainthat all the tears shedding today are made of starlight so the spirits holding… Continue reading POEM A DAY – MARCH 27
Tag: death
POEM A DAY – March 21
one day into spring and i’m floating on a raftof poetry…short, fat chunksof stanzas braided withmermaid hair…and hopethe water (made of tears) isbedazzled by the sun:death keeps scooping people upand I think she’s tired tooof all the heaving last nightthere was so much magicthough, just like…everywhereon everyone…skin so goose-bumped we looked like aliensall that lifting… Continue reading POEM A DAY – March 21
POEM A DAY – March 19
This Now The dog snores.The coffee colds.The heat whirs. Pope JoanHestiaSappho and Marguerite Porete await my attention.The journal pulses. Death is open-mouthedswallowing anotherbody into its belly depth, darkness:the hold before a new birthing untangles into thelight. Grief is agrotto we slink into – weep, laughsigh, sleep. Ourflushed cheeks press againstseashell walls.
Love as Activism
Today marks the fifth anniversary of my Nonna's passing. My tummy has been in knots all day. My guts toiled in memories. Today is the last exam for my daughter; her eleventh grade year concluded. Today my son will attend a funeral for a classmate; a bright, compassionate, kind light of a human who passed… Continue reading Love as Activism