It was a ten-inch tall mini-tree in a small plastic pot that sat on the coffee table in the living room. Sprinkled with silver glitter and embellished with tiny silver ornaments. An impulse purchase at Target one December years ago. An attempt at decorating for the holidays, at living.
Tag: Nature
Reggie, my heart therapy
He sees me June 27, 2014. He loves a freshly cut lawn. He does a down-dog-stretch before squeezing through the rectangular flap of a door. Outside. Sniffing a path, he finds a patch of sun and flops onto his side. Lying still for a minute, he soaks up the warmth then rolls onto his stomach.… Continue reading Reggie, my heart therapy

Poem #20: “Zoo”
Zookeeper’s fingers, relaxed
Splayed
Leafy chameleon, sticky toes
Stayed
Don’t be loud, touch
Gently
Note his eyes, orbit
Independently
Scaly thing, never misses
A fly
Spellbound children, eyes
Up high
On the mini-dinosaur’s
Gripping tail
In and around knotty branches
Going pale
We touched a snake, a chinchilla
Even a skink
But not the wolf spider—No way!
What do you think?
We washed off our hands and waited
In line
Ate our brown bag lunch in a sea
Of pine
The big yellow birds were waiting
Nearby
Line up now children, let’s all say
Goodbye
Day 15, “Fly”
Poem #15: “Fly” There was a total lunar eclipse today (Tuesday, April 15th) that turned the moon a coppery red. A blood-moon. And it was one of four total eclipses that will take place in North America within the next year and a half, NASA says. Only wish I could have stayed awake to see it!
Poem #6: “Nature”
By Joey K. (6th grade)
I am a rock
Lifeless and quiet
I wear no shoes nor socks
And can’t go on a diet
I am a tree
Standing tall and thick
I give birds and squirrels glee
My shape is much like a toothpick
I am a mushroom
Just one part of my family
All funguses take over the dead, I assume
And grow around merrily
I am an eagle
Watching everything with my keen eye
Sitting atop a tree, acting regal
Like an MIG spy
I am nature
Where anything can live or die
And when you decide to look around make sure
To keep an open eye
My Butterfly: An Elegy
Then when I was distraught And could not speak, Sidelong, full on my cheek, What should that reckless zephyr fling But the wild touch of thy dye-dusty wing! I found that wing broken to-day! For thou are dead, I said, And the strange birds say. I found it with the withered leaves Under the eaves.… Continue reading My Butterfly: An Elegy
And now, grief is a gorilla. Massive, strong, solid, sometimes silent—it lies still and rests—and sometimes loud—it howls and beats its chest. It can be sluggish and clumsy or nimble and sharp. And, as if I am the dead one, grief holds me and shakes my lifelessness with puzzled eyes, and pokes at me and nudges me and reminds me that yes, Living without my child is incomprehensible—impossible, but that I still have to breathe.
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