I write poems for a stranger
who will be born in some distant country
hundreds of years from now.
—Mary Oliver
Welcome to My Poetry
The first poems I remember were in a Little Golden Book. Once I learned to read, I never stopped pouring over them and marveling at how the words rolled across my tongue and made music with their sounds. I don’t recall when I began writing poems, but I made them as gifts to friends and family. I never kept them—not even one.
Now, my poems come to you as a gift with words and sometimes images.
Each title links to the poem.
National Poetry Writing Month 2022 (30 poems, 30 days) Part I and Part II
Careen (A Quadrille to Writing)
What Can You Find in a Clerihew (W. Edwards Deming)?