Tag Archives: poet

‘I held your then little hand and tried to lead, but I kept losing the way.’

‘It’s ok, Mama.  You really were too young to know.’

‘And you know, I really thought I was doing what was best.’

‘I know, Mama.  And you were doing your best.’

‘But you came out fine.’

‘Fine like you, Mama.’


By day, she devours every sound, sight and sense around her.

By night, she pours her soul onto her writing instrument.   A catharsis entertained by the dim light of her bedside lamp.

And then she sleeps.