Poetry Month – April 2

Today, from the box, comes a prayer shawl. Actually, a grief shawl. My dear friend Anne told the women in her church that my mother had died and they created (Knit? Crocheted?) this shawl. Prayer Shawl The church ladies did…
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Poetry Month-April 3

My Flesh, My Heart A little more than a gallon of blood
Churns under my skin
A bucket’s worth of ocean water
Sloshes in the pail
the six-year-old carries
across the white sand
full of Look Mom treasures
a starfish,…
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Poetry Month – April 7, 2022

When I became a mom, I loved birth stories. I couldn’t hear enough of them. They are so tender. So individual. As I age, I love the stories about each person’s passing on. They are so tender. So individual. Thank…
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It’s hard to Rest In Peace about your seventeen-year-old cat going missing one night. It’s hard not to bury a body. It’s hard not to know for sure they are dead. Of course, the other side of it is hard:…
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