Virus
Every day is fear now, blocking out potential, masking the possible, making it hard to breathe. That’s how sickness works. […]
Katherine’s Coffeehouse
Sorry, Emily
Because I could not stop for death, he kindly passed me by – he, dark winged and disappointed. Me, content
Following
That time in the Mexican mountains, I said I was being followed. It wasn’t so much that you listened (though
Every Atom
That day you hummed the song of myself – I assume you assumed I’d fallen for it. I did. Have
Tin
Lighting the lavender votive, I remember you and me, vitamins, mood stabilizers, coffee. And that little tin of scones, blue
Pawn
You brought it to the pawn shop, the only silver I’d ever owned. Perhaps I’ll buy it back. Save it
Recall
Recall waves bye like a tired baby, confusion puckering, the right words already asleep, unintelligible taking over. No one seems
Spring Thaw
Remember when the sun offered us just enough to turn snow in the road to puddles? Mom said the wanted
Movie
In the cinema, pudgy recliner holding me in its vinyl hand, your own hand holding mine – I want to
Monday Morning Revival
Hope leaked out of the lunch bin, into my laptop bag, messing up the expected. What is this new Monday
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Zoo Animals
Always up a hill smell of heaviness and hay the elephant house -Katherine Gotthardt #KatherinesCoffeehouse
The Fall
These dark, autumn mornings, and yesterday’s indifferent rain, the calendar bothered by subsiding sun, and some made up bullshit –
Statement of the Times
Fear is an ugly book cover. Crack open the spine. Read past the first chapter. Decide if it’s fiction. Or
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Step
It’s why I didn’t squash the horsefly, merely walked back inside. It’s why I captured the rat, freed it
Ostrich
I’m afraid of ostriches. Not metaphorical ones (though head in the sand can be worse than a rotting pecan disguised
Wax Museum, Harpers Ferry
By the John Brown museum, vulture bothering something long dead. “Where would your loyalty lie?” reads the placard. I recall,
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Sallie
Through the back window, I saw the first yellow leaf of fall, as I gathered your fur that’s been collecting
Cut
How blunt the scissors used too often. Want to stay sharp? Use only when needed. Refrain from grinding edges, trying
Sheaf
Are you starving yet? Has your stomach turned blue and black, inside out with hunger? Have you bruised your back
The Summer of Our Content
Now was the summer of our content, made possible by the sun, and here we lay, and here we slept,
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Concert
In the 80’s, there, in row 103, me, lighter raised, like everyone else in praise of music. But mine –