The moon shining in through the window, bright as the sun at noon. I capture this photo with my phone that doesn’t have night mode. It looks more like a painting than an actual photograph. The colors are muted through the lens looking into the darkness. The outline of the room still appears in tact.Continue reading “This Isn’t A Painting”
Tag Archives: amwriting
Light & Quiet
When snow blankets the earth, life quiets. Stepping outside feels like the volume You never notice has been turned down. The only sound you hear is your steps Making a path that will melt When it meets the sun. The night brings light to the darkness When the full moon bounces off the snow, ItContinue reading “Light & Quiet”
Keep The Peace
I bite my tongue to not make a remark I will regret. I taste blood without feeling the pain of the pinch. It will heal, forming a scar on my tongue I will never see. Keep the peace. Keep the peace. Keep the peace. It’s the only mantra that keeps me sane. You confuse respectContinue reading “Keep The Peace”
Do You Have A Plan?
Today is the first day of mail-in voting in CO. This morning I dropped off my ballot at a drop-off box. This evening, I got an email saying my ballot was accepted. Do you have a plan to vote? Have you voted yet?
What Cannot Be Controlled
“I’m the vice president of panic, and the president is missing.” – Paige Lewis My right eye is filling up with water As soon as it meets the morning light. I am afraid to look at today’s news. I wonder which version of events are worth clinging to. I want to remember this moment likeContinue reading “What Cannot Be Controlled”
Central Park, Deck 8
The one place I can find peace and quiet. Central Park, Deck 8. Above me, chaos ensues. Children screaming, parents yelling. The beauty of being on a large boat. I sit under the shade of a cabana With a Starbucks and a book. I try to write but I can’t think of anything. Too muchContinue reading “Central Park, Deck 8”
36th Street
After a long day of speech therapy and wandering around the city, I take a shortcut to return back to my hotel. 36th street. A random street. The sun has disappeared behind the clouds. The street is quiet, a welcomed change from Park Avenue. I’m halfway down between Park and Lexington when I notice aContinue reading “36th Street”
Grateful
The morning began with stillness. I watched as the sun rose over the horizon and filtered through the trees, still half asleep. My mother’s childhood bedroom, flower wallpaper, a quilt on the chair in the corner, two small vases on the window sill. I’d wake up most mornings I slept here and watched this viewContinue reading “Grateful”
August in the City
I wrote this poem last year on a park bench in Washington Square Park. I carried an umbrella, walking down Fifth Avenue, waiting for the rain to fall. I held one of Patti Smith’s first books at the Strand. I admired Robert Mapplethorpe’s photographs at the Guggenheim. I told a man from Africa about ToniContinue reading “August in the City”
An Ode to Double Vision
Ten months without you vanishes with your unexpected return in late July. I liked you better when you lived in my memories. You came barging in without warning. Your presence is most obvious morning and night. I don’t know what you expect me to say, I literally cannot see because of you. I cannot readContinue reading “An Ode to Double Vision”
Kelly Severseike 