Katherine's Coffeehouse

In light of darkness nighting the day,

For weeks, you deny you resent me, withdrawing, same as rain, lie holding its breath like heavy August air, you, a drought, and I something else, something like a river, slow drying, abandoned by duckling, white heron, great egret, seeking the usual sustenance from another able body, perhaps the inlet or stream, anything else but …

Divorce Read More »

The intersection of poetry and my day job.

What I want to do is stop remembering the rainy morning you drove 50 miles to my house to help me find car keys I'd dropped in the trash.

I hate to sound so jaded, but the world we live in, the world that demands so much of our time, is not complete reality, is it? At least it’s not for those who think beyond the constant barrage of emails and phone calls and schedules and drivel that passes for life. And yet we …

Dear Readers: We are all short on time. Read More »

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 …

Cure Read More »

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 …

Ode to a Balloon Let Go in London Read More »

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 …

Mermaid Read More »

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.