Tag: writers community


I must weed my garden, overcome and ambushed,Using rough, aching hands Pulling at sticky green tendrils Braided and rooted into red clay. Fingers grasp at my apron strings, Where they claw and hang, just as insecure children Who sob and heave, stutter with tears and beg to stay homeUnwilling to let go. Wearily I enter

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Feast of Burden

No. I can’t make it down tonight. Through the door you Knock on my belligerence Testing my lock without a key Imploring you: “Please. Go down to greet our company.” Delicately each holds paper napkins Within which each hides Their thin whispers of doubt. “She’s better than expected.” Suddenly everyone earns expert degrees Doctorates of

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I Am from This Time of Covid

I am behind a stranger in the time of Covid When smiles moved from our mouths io to our eyes and faces gave away nothing about intention. Thieves and pastors, warriors and workers, all indistinguishable one from another. I am isolation from the time of Covid, When I already understood the words: alone, and silence,

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