Room
She did not know to engage in such things would leave everything familiar flailing, everything worthy slapping itself against stucco
Memory Care
Every second, you give up a little more, stare at the space between us, mumble one-word answers, refuse your favorite
Azalea
I don’t know what you think of white, but tonight, I see azalea petals outdoing the dark, and I think,
Wishful Thinking
I’m in awe of chaos and how easily it erupts, how fragile the audience of everything: one wrong word an
Speaking of…
You’ve come to grips with it: no one’s in the audience. Every day, you hear yourself, reverberating in the mic,
Reminder #3
Open your notebook. Log the times you think you failed. Read it to the wind. -Katherine Gotthardt
Advice
This is my advice: slice the morning. Make wedges out of hours, minutes where you could be writing poetry. Carve
Tattoo
5 a.m. on a Sunday and I accidentally wake my husband. “Poetry piled up overnight,” I explain. He murmurs, “Death
If it wasn’t for
If it wasn’t for the way early light met me on the street that morning, or the way April rain’s
Battlefield
Today, in the battlefield’s forest, Manassas gave us gifts: a stream for our dog to swim in, a wooden bridge
Crave
Crave is a five letter word, same as power. The world knows no peace. -Katherine Gotthardt Praying for peace.
