Some days are heavy with memories. April 14th is one such—the day my first child was born. Actually, she wasn’t my first child. Like so many women, I had a prior pregnancy that ended in a miscarriage. That miscarriage occurred a year before my baby girl was born. (Both were right around Easter.) Today, a… Continue reading What we remember – “April 14”
Did you know that practically every day of the year is a celebration of a cause, or society segment, or historical event, or something? Check out Brownielocks.com for lists of celebrations that range from the sublime to the ridiculous. Last Friday (October 1), for example, was International Day of Older Persons. Today (October 6) or… Continue reading Random act of poetry–on Aging
Sunday is Mother’s Day—I’m sure I don’t need to remind you! Mother’s Day reminds me of my own mother and the fact that it’s already 15 years ago that I gave her her last Mother’s Day card. She died about six weeks after Mother’s Day in 2006. I still miss her, though signs of her… Continue reading “Portrait of my mother at twenty” – a poem
When presented, by my writing group, with the challenge to write about my experience during the pandemic, my first thought was to do it in poem form (seeing as how it’s April and National Poetry Month). “Pandemic Lifestyle” is a snapshot of some of the things that have characterized the last months for me and… Continue reading Pandemic Lifestyle – a poem
Poet Maureen Doallas tagged me this morning in a poetry-writing meme. Her poem, "Learning to Jump Rope," is based on Lisa Hesselgrave's painting Jump Rope Pink Room. I took my inspiration for the poem below from these lines in Maureen's poem: “your wrists will begin to ache / at a quarter to three…” As I… Continue reading Learning to Skate
Glynn Young's insightful blog post "Poetry At Work: The Poetry of Retirement" reminded me of when I went through some of the same things he and any new retiree faces—wondering who I would be now, what activities would my life consist of, would I find new purpose and direction? The poem below came out of… Continue reading Beware Retirement
This is Thanksgiving Weekend in Canada and I should probably be posting an overtly thankful poem. Let this be its substitute, for it sings the praises of some of the things for which I am most thankful: the ability to walk, beautiful places to walk, someone to walk with, fall colours, fall mists, the Creator… Continue reading The sun dreams palely down
Bright Scarves of Hours by Diane Tucker My rating: 5 of 5 stars Nothing is wasted on Diane Tucker. From the lyrics of an Arlo Guthrie song to a dull November day, a wait for the bus to the sounds of someone bathing in the next room—it’s all poem material, and woven into her Bright… Continue reading Bright Scarves of Hours (review)
The Witness of Rooms The heart of our family was the dining room more than the tight kitchen with its claustrophobia of cupboards woodbox on wheels, tilting-out flour bin that hid desperate-legged beetles and gas stove whose oven POOF! terrified me when I was eight. The dining room had the fridge and the wood table… Continue reading The witness of rooms
Violet Nesdoly 