I dig through just-arrived groceries for Cracker Jack and Pink Elephant Popcorn hold cinnamon hearts tight with my tongue till my mouth is on fire pick sweating Smarties and licorice shoelaces off the icing of my cake sift through green cellophane straw to find the last chocolate egg gobble a bag of jujubes at the… Continue reading Candy Year
this is a poem about the last page a poem about feeling panicked a poem about lists this is a poem about shopping and tired feet about choosing the right card then signing your name 47 times a poem about wrapping paper, tape and ribbon this is a poem about putting up lights and garland… Continue reading this is a poem 2
When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened. Luke 3:21 For thirty years and nine months heaven’s Son-silent corridors, its echoing rooms with their litter of creation and Word-clutter have been my constant reminder of His absence. Though always vigilant I have restrained myself… Continue reading Baptism
Mrs. Beasley packed her purse fearing things would just get worse: gloves and flippers, skates and socks lotion for the chicken pox rain umbrella, steaks and fries drops and goggles for her eyes cell phone, blanket, tire jack a map so she could make it back pound of breath mints, whistle, mace sun-screen to protect… Continue reading Mrs. Beasley Packed Her Purse
Though the afternoon’s snow-cold breaths and gray vapors threaten to lower the curtain flowers keep bursting on stage. Magnolia’s tight rose buds fan out to pink confections Forsythia leaps graceful arcs of yellow Pieris dangles blushing clusters like exotic fruit. From shy mauve Lungwort uncoiling under somber juniper to Rhododendrons - fuchsia, orange and red… Continue reading April Show
3:00 a.m. – instantly awake. Sliver of welcome-home light still shines under my door a silent revelation: he is not yet home. All sleep securely bound and trussed by the everlasting umbilical cord, I go downstairs with my sedatives – pillow, journal, pen – assume my post on the couch and wait. Every cell tingles… Continue reading Everlasting Umbilical Cord
Black shark glides through blue heavens. Torpedo in the sky pierces. The tower explodes billows of orange. Four deadly missiles launched that clear Tuesday morning in September. Four generous and trusting planes, pregnant with fire-eager fuel. Four passenger lists – mostly ordinary people and 18 ruthless, cold fanatics. Four hits: 8:48 - World Trade Center,… Continue reading Earthquake in the Sky
Crowds come, he speaks, we cast out spirits, heal. As a career move I could have done worse. Mobility is upward here, I feel for I'm the one he chose to keep the purse. But he attracts the common, sick and poor, his teachings contradict, they don't make sense: First shall be last? Great riches… Continue reading Career Move
Welcome to the Country Airport, also called the Loveless Hotel Would you care for something to drink? Ultramarine or Blue for their colors passing through us? Fire aged by Rosicrucian in the basement? Perhaps a light hors d’oeuvres on the funny side, or otherwise something more substantial – unholy sonnets or serious concerns? Our specials… Continue reading Welcome
"I don't want to pray," slap words sting from my four-year-old daughter. How have I millstoned God to her so she won't bring her earaches to Him? I remember "Are you saved?" evangelistic, zealous aunt cornered me, seven. Next time she visited, I hid. Jesus is different His words a compelling beckon lure-and-bait questions irresistible… Continue reading I Don’t Want to Pray
Violet Nesdoly 