A place to gather words before they get lost.
Upon reflection, I wonder if my words got angled, tangled up in emotion and syntax, the facts of what I was saying obscured, for surely, if I had been clear enough, if I had been articulate enough, if I had whispered loud enough, with passion, in a fashion, he might have listened; instead, he just upped and walked away
for OpenWrite
My old classroom was drenched in cold, isolated silence;
Now I'm bathed in songs of joy rising from the playground
a Naani poem for #openwrite
Looks like scattered bones; black stems and tangled vines that pumpkins leave behind
like that part in the music where it still sounds like snow used to
— from 'That Part In The Music' by Carl Phillips
slipping dripping rhythms of the air, falling, in places where our ears barely hear, our thoughts disappear, for only a moment before her voice comes calling us back
Original poem: https://poets.org/poem/part-music?mc_cid=a96c9b334c&mc_eid=ed9c8bae96
Driftwood, bobbling on constant ocean currents; high tide brings it home
A moon, known by some as Harvest, Song or Barley, takes the stage as Corn
Hardy, but hardly sleepy, these Chrysanthemums bloom brightly, daily
Nighttime's slumbering, like a weary teenager waking late for school
for Algot
Ten bears, fallen;
constellations, stolen from their stories,
they're wandering, marching in tandem across the Iowa soil:
Native mound-builders knew what we have now lost
inspired by NWP Write Across America, Iowa
Effigy Mounds https://youtu.be/tYri8_Llbg0
Caught inside the space between rock and river
water flows, still, always
Any decision to remain, decided
inspired by NWP Write Across America, Iowa