I am from strength and salt waterThe craggy Maine coast and a cottage called Whispering HopeThe home of my American grandparentsI am from gathered-up seashells and chipped sand dollarsBright plastic pails of sand and squeaky styrofoam surfboardsThe warm smell of slippery suntan oil and the chilly embrace of deep-blue waves I am from tradition and reverenceThe … Continue reading Home
Blue like the sky or the ocean, clear like cold rain? Or is it the hot yellow of blinding sunlight? Perhaps it’s faded pink, like dead dried-up cherry blossoms. Grief is deep red, a rich crimson— a wound right through the heart.
Furious raindrops Beating down on The rooftops I hear the wild dance Of nature.
One day when I was young My father whispered Did you know That the safest place In all the world Is in your papa’s arms? I tucked the words inside my head And went to bed each night Dreaming. These are the days I find myself half-smiling Remembering those moments Of happy whispered promises And … Continue reading Awake
We talked at the café looking out into the night sneaking serious glances in between playful smiles I followed you home and invited myself to stay for a bit (you didn’t seem to mind) At your house you finally let me in (but only for a while) I spied the bottle of whisky underneath the … Continue reading Clarity