Day 12: Dull Thing

Day 12, our task is to write a poem addressing something dull, or mundane. Sure. Dull Thing dull thing: I could speak here of a knife worn thin it is its metal, atom by atom, infused into all who have shared my kitchen binding us. but a knife is a tool, best kept sharp; or…

Call and Response:O Open Heart

How To Hold You Now there is no way, actually to repay uncounted courage there is no way to say what lines the heart there are no swans no thrumming wings write the sky full that road carries no sign Overboard Li Po had no truck with suffering for art they say, when he fell…

Spirit Mothering

  I was 23 when I met my spirit mother. I’d buried my father and my older brother, gone to university, gotten put on probation, answered an ad that seemed the answer to my prayer for something meaningful to do with that year, some path that mattered. The path led to Mexico, to a teaching…

Equinox 2017: Seasons Change

Hello again. It’s been a while. This spring, my mother passed away. My father passed when I was nineteen, just setting out in the world. Mom was 51 then, as I am now: 51, a woman who’d given up bank work to raise a family with her husband working in the Armed Forces as a…

April 5: Landing

for Catherine Sewell, who walked on at 39, or else would have been 55 this day would she have laughed? i met our old colleague in Superstore talk turned to landing kids so as to break that trope of Indian comes to City and skids out of control into alcohol, crime and life as a…