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About This Author
A changeling spirit,
constantly evolving,
revolving around an inner core,
spinning forth legend and lore,
stories and lives
as I come to grips
with who and what I am,
have been and may be.
I am a phoenix:
rising ever above and beyond!
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Insights
Insights
1961 windsheild - no safety glass.
No seatbelts. Head-on collision -
face first.
I remember the lilacs were beginning to bloom,
but I never saw them that year. Nor summer greens,
nor autumn's red and gold.
Clear glass blocked out the light
except for random sparkles like
glitter in the dark.
Three surgeries, each removing shards
from deep within my eyes.
Then months of bandages each time.
Learn braille, I was told, how to tap-step,
and how to listen to water in a cup.
My grandmother taught me to run in the meadow.
One last chance, last-ditch surgery
by a doctor who told me it was all or nothing.
I'll never forget the sight of my mom crying.
Prompt/Week # 45
Select one of the five senses, then write a poem about it.
sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch
18 lines |
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