I come to write
along side your lines
perforated paper
torn along my spine
with a dull blade
and an empty inkwell.
The snow has melted now.
Yet I sit cozy
near the blazing fire
with a blanket wrapped around
the middle of my story
and dancing flames worth noticing.
I will leave you the ash.
To sweep
or print
or blow away
towards the blooming azalea
covered with bees.
Thank you to everyone who contributed to my first attempt at publishing. Creating the handmade book was a long journey from germination to tangible product.
I am now taking submissions for Volume 2, Edition 1, that will release in September. I have a new email wildheartarts33@pm.me Send 1-3 poems and a short bio. Look forward to reading new and old voices.
And I have been really busy. Not sure if anyone has noticed Ive been MIA. But I have missed you. Time to catch up soon.
I am shooting for a Mother’s Day weekend grand opening of my Little Free Library. My future son-in-law is a trained carpenter with North Bennett Street School. He did a fantastic job (albeit not quite complete) on the library structure. It resembles my studio Shed 33! And you can peek in the windows.
One last thing before I move on. I am trying out Instagram. Again. Under a new name… come follow me. I’d love to reconnect!
The minute
the very exact minute
i opened my mouth
out flew every disease i ever caught.
And so i buried myself
under the pine
with worn words as a companion.
A silent celebration
i invited no one.
I am about a month away from my Little Free Library grand opening. Which means I am busy constructing my first collaborative chapbook and I am eager to let everyone see it soon! Thank you to those who have contributed.
The heaviness of hibernation has me wiggling out of my skin.
I want to experience again
the day i first met you
on display
the layers of tongue
wagging through philosophy
lifting life.
Us finding midnight blue.
I haven’t posted many of my thoughts lately. Mostly out of a cringe in my stomach telling me to hold back the tide of bile. An anger lurks underneath the bed.
And you are healing? Aren’t you feeling your way out of the dark yet?
Ive been here so long. You fit like a glove. The peeling back of every layer. Every fear succumbs to my scratching fever. The bedside table rarely tips. The icy water barely sipped.
open wide sand skies
sparkles two moons of feelin’
waves of molten juice
the layer beneath
keep digging until you find
fresh cut grass, growing
Can you hear me
make home
in the silence of the woods
where i watch freshly fallen snow
absorb her howl.
And i walk with a limp.
My days blend one into another. My to-do projects never quite finished. Ever chasing what best resembles my thoughts.
In the end, we return to the beginning. Recyclers of vision. Creative forces that renew life’s energy. From brown, life reveals an essence. Stability. Friendship. Wisdom.
Find the photography challenge here
thecadyluckleedy.com/2021/01/24/life-in-color-january-24th-2021/
Im tired of the blather
long to be whisked forth
where nature knows what is best.
