Category Archives: poem

of leaving

I am not supposed to mourn the loss of you.  There is no place in this culture where a parent is allowed to hold grief for a child’s leaving home: not this burning sorrow marring the skin. They say grow a … Continue reading

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wandering

Reading your poem makes me want to read another poem about another room where i wandered from corner to corner then onto the next floor of this house some rich man gave to another rich man who then cried, Nothing … Continue reading

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Spring Fever

Days of rain. Winter hangs on, fingers firmly pulling on the white cloak. Traps us inside its concrete sky.  My mind is in the mist. One more day without sun and I start to think I am never going to … Continue reading

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parenting aftermath

They leave and I stop baking  cupcakes cookies shortbread brownies muffins pancakes pies after pies: apple pumpkin blueberry summer tarts sweet breads with whipped butter. The trays stay clean crumb-less kitchen table hums a sorrow song  through its grains of … Continue reading

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Current mood

  The color of crushed grapes planted in spring, five years ago. No one remembers the weather when the vines were born and their fruits squeezed into the oak barrels shipped from somewhere in France where I had walked alone … Continue reading

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Fifty and I

Fifty and I am trapped in this life I’d cultivated. Careful, if you’re not so careful years add to fifty and still feel chained to the ground wings clipped by own teeth, shearing one feather at a time until bones … Continue reading

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This night, this life.

It sounds like a cliche but I blink and the last eighteen years flew out the door. My son is graduating from high school in less than one month. My daughter is three quarters into her Sophomore year in college. … Continue reading

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Friday Poem: You’ve Come Back to Me

BY LAURA KASISCHKE For G A small thing crawling toward me across this dark lawn. Bright eyes the only thing I’m sure I see. You’ve come back to me, haven’t you, my sweet? From long ago, and very far. Through … Continue reading

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save me Friday

save me, I said to the blank pages that remain bare. save me I pleaded to the passersbys who glanced and then went on with their ways. save me I cried until my eyes were dry wells, having allowed the … Continue reading

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The history of 2017

History remembers the biggest thug in this place, the loudest voice he spoke with still ringing in ears where it pierced the drums. All sounds were muted except his voice which raised other voices as they echoed his gesture & … Continue reading

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