So this is my first blog, and I'm not quite sure yet where I want to take it, but I think I will be sharing some writing and writing about other works I have read. For an intro, here is a poem I had published last spring.
I Hope
our story isn’t a eulogy,
a passage of tragedy in past tense,
fast-fading memory,
not-quite successes subtly stamped
in burnt edges, black and white.
I hope our story isn’t
charcoal forests, melting ice
foreshadowed by the eleventh hour and
a singular inconvenient truth,
truth measured in tossed out aluminum and
our freedom in flying plastic bags
I hope the lines don’t define us
by brand names and price tags,
broken streets and needles,
brown-splotched beggars,
wasted minutes, unheld hands;
death charted, made statistic.
I hope our story consists of moments
when smiles stretched to hurt can’t hold all art
when the sweetest soprano can’t reach
stars smiled at in thanks, soft earth clutched to ashes,
hope dangled on the flutter of an eyelash, sudden grace;
sand and star under one impartial light
I hope our story tells how
calloused hands paved the way;
how stretching fingers held fast,
pushed meaning forward
for our story,
so breathtakingly long,
so irreversibly short.
