#AmericanWriters
I will keep Broken things: The big clay Pot
Let other leaders Retire To play golf & write Memoirs
The old men used to sing And lifted a brother Carefully Out the door I used to think they
Going out to the garden this morning to plant seeds for my winter greens —the strong, fiery mustard
My brothers knew The things you know. I did not scorn learning them; It’s just my mind
Before I leave the stage I will sing the only song I was meant truly to sing. It is the song of I AM.
Reminding us, as they witnessed our curiosity about them, that no matter the losses, there’s something fabulous going on at every stage of Life, something to let go of, maybe, but for d...
My desire is always the same; wherever Life deposits me: I want to stick my toe & soon my whole body
She is the one who will notice that the first snapdragon of Spring is
If my sorrow were deeper I’d be, along with you, under the ocean’s floor; but today I learn that the oil that pools beneath the ocean floor
As if I’ve swallowed A watermelon And Sidestepping My digestive tract
I have a friend who is turning gray, not just her hair, and I do not know why this is so.
Don’t be like those who ask for ev… praise, a blurb, a free ride in my… limousine. They ask for everything… anything in return. Be like those who can see that my…
Be nobody’s darling; Be an outcast. Take the contradictions Of your life And wrap around
Word reaches us that you are sleeping, sleeping. Dismayed we have turned to the sea. We encounter among others