Health Food
(a haiku) crisp green salad leaves me longing for something less virtuous like fudge
Category Archives: Poetry
Renovation
Dust on the TV Dust on the chairs Dust on the stovetop Dust on the stairs Dust in the cabinets Dust in the bed Dust in the kitchen sink Dust […]
The Cat’s Lament
Today’s poem was a breakfast table collaboration with my daughters, ages 8 and 10, as we watched our cats twitch and stare out the window. I see potential for more […]
Fast Food
my tummy is empty our schedule is packed there’s no time for dining not even a snack my appetite longs for a meal that’s complete but it’s Ramen and wine […]
Song Writer
(a haiku) clack smack thwack ching gurch daughter’s typing concerto music to my ears
My Book
I think I’ll write a book someday. I think I’ll write a book. I have ideas and things to say. I think I’ll write a book. I’m going to read […]
Crossing
they round the corner just in time for “don’t walk” not a delay but a happy pause for nose to nuzzle neck his affection pulling that waist so close they […]
Crud Pressure
these words do not flow or tumble or rush they barely trickle from some constricted source oozing through cerebral arteries squeezed by crud pressure clots of obligation spasms of distraction […]
Big bridge
Norma sat on my desk tonight showing me her art work asking about my week laughing about cats sipping red wine thank God for technology that conducts our sisterhood across […]
Clear directions?
stand up lean in pay it forward look around speak your mind keep the peace respect others stand your ground
No idea
a haiku mom’s thoughts vaporize against kids’ burning questions no wonder she’s fried
Just give us pause
English class taught me yes College prof told me no One boss adds it in Another says it must go Chicago Manual insists Before “and” is its place AP Style […]
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his mother stands for hours tall poised steady not even leaning on the chair behind her held by impossible strands of strength and grace friends and strangers line the aisles […]
My dad drove an orange tractor
my dad drove an orange tractor in a sea of green he bobbed along not one shiny surface to catch the sun except his eyes sparkling and satisfied to see […]
He wanted the blue peach
he wanted the blue peach to fall like luscious honey through her fingers
Beth Nyland 