Do not silence your life. Disregard fears of tonsillitis, laryngitis, infection. Sing. Sing what is, what was, what isn’t. Trill your years. Match pitch with decades, tone with seasons. Entice octaves with each drink of ice water, followed by spoons of soup. Sip. Hear how clear your truth sounds? Copyright Katherine M. Gotthardt from Weaker …
It’s what happens when an orb flies freely, escaping the glass of a world glaring with human imperfection, industry, idols, what passes for intelligence and integrity– it oversees London, the iris of England’s art, the reputation of queens, the relaxed accent of ancient history revered or scorned or adored. A balloon– now there is something …
Women there know how to live, flippers and sunshine and sea, scales adapting to sand or saltwater, tawny skinned, smiling, escape nearby whenever mood or tide arises. Meanwhile, somewhere, collapsed at a laptop, stiff-necked skeleton, tie still strangling a calcified sense of self. Skull on keyboard, glasses abandoned, he is visionless, hollow eyed, a man …
Springtime and everything switches on, electric song of peepers and honeysuckle. Nature’s extraordinary reboot.
As we wrap up the month, here are some more small offerings.
For my mother-in-law, Doris “Dorie” Gotthardt, who, battling cancer, sang at sunrise service at Colonial Beach.
Katherine’s poem “Now Entering Manassas” was the winner of the adult “time capsule” poetry contest. Katherine read her poem April 1 at the 150th anniversary celebration, the translated version by Jorge de Villasante was read in Spanish by Bianca Menendez, her poem was published in Neighbors of Historic Manassas magazine, and it was included in …
Now Entering Manassas / Próximo Arribo – Manassas Read More »
