Category: Poetry
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Guest Post: “What Good” by Sally Shideler
Earlier this month, my husband, Jerry Miller, passed away unexpectedly. In the ensuing chaos, confusion, and grief, I’m turning over my blog space this week to a guest post. Please enjoy the poem “What Good,” by my daughter, Sally Shideler, as she processes the loss of her stepfather and second dad: What good isa handmade…
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Carrying On
Carrying on Morning devotionsMorning Bible readingMorning prayer I’m keeping theroutine. But Lord,I’m hurting:I’m lonely, I’m sad,I’m afraid. I hear that frog croaking,the spring peeper outsidemy back window,and I wonder howI’ll do the hard stuff.How will I removeanother dried-upfrog stuck in thedoorjamb, likelast year? Last year, when Jerry did it. My lists seem overwhelming.I cross off…
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Capturing a bracing winter in haiku
The click of her leash. The squeak of the garage door. Brutal wind whips past.
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A Sadly Apt Haiku
Empty plates linger. Snowflakes whirl past slatted blinds. Superflu Christmas!
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Blue ripples
Fill the Aegean Blue ripples shimmering with silver ridges, rolling away toward the Sun that brightens the palest azure horizon mesmerize me. My exposed skin browns with freckles, moistened by the late summer rays that burn in the cerulean sky. Those Aegean sailors bound for Troy, fiercely loyal or stupidly tricked by a sailor much…
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Will just being just happen?
“Do your best. Keep trying until you can do no more. Did you do your best? Then that’s all you can do.” ~Sigh~ The words do more than echo. They are the threads that stitch together my daily life. But I’m getting better at asking for help. Covid did that: Made me stress more, doubt…
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Was it ever so simple?
It’s Graduation Season: I see my former students and colleagues as I make the rounds to a few select open houses- of those daring, outstanding students who braved sending an invitation when they know it’s not my thing. “Are you glad you’re not teaching anymore?” “Oh, yeah. Things are so different. Even in just a…
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We’re having a little party on Saturday
I’ve got to get ready Even though they won’t be coming, I feel my parents nudging me. I kick into Dad mode. Make a list and assign chores to anyone who is standing nearby or is expected to be standing nearby in the coming hours. Used to be that was my kids’ seasonal horror. “You…
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A teacher’s Saturday
on Spring Break Pull off the mask of monotony, the cloak of routine, and allow the joyful voice of your hidden heart to sing with gleeful abandon. Dance! Fling your arms wide to embrace the fresh day with its newly scrubbed face of opportunity. Then wrap the shawl of serenity around your sturdy shoulders that…
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The Baumpies arrive
A shaft of moonbeam pierced the upper pane of glass, so bright that as it hit my face, I thrashed, untangling my restless legs from the crisp percale that imprisoned them. Wadded now where the foot of my bed met the sloping ceiling, my sheets released me to the light’s magnetic pull. Cool, rough floorboards…
