The Language of Tenderness For those who speak without words* In the hush of morning, your eyes gather sunlight— a gentle exchange, no syllables needed. Fingers brushed across your hand whisper what mouths cannot; the pulse beneath your skin beats slow and true, a message I read by heart. I watch the shape of your..
The Sesame Benediction A poem on Anne’s joy at savouring a fresh bagel Steam sighs from the hollow of the still-warm bagel, Crackled shell yielding under her trembling touch, Gold-flecked with sesame, their perfume a pulse— A whiff of ancient streets, laughter curling in air. Richness spilling over, a tide against the tongue— Sweet and..
Palliative Care Hair A free verse poem celebrating Anne’s first visit to the hairdresser since the onset of her disease Today, Anne’s scalp blooms again— silver tufts bristle through the thaw of winter, as if the dawn has stroked the frost from barren fields. The salon chair rises to cradle her— throne of gentle..
Anne’s Radiant Smile In the quiet dawn of a winsome morning, Anne steps into the world, her guileless heart shining bright, radiating warmth like a sunbeam, each glance a beguiling promise, whispers of joy woven in her laughter. The softness of her spirit dances, a gentle breeze through the vermilion leaves of autumn, ..
In the Flux of Eternity She rests— in the patient hush of autumn light, her body a fragile flower cupped in the gentle palm of passing time. There is no trembling at the thought of dusk, no shadow curling at the edge of her gaze. She is not afraid. Her eyes, lucid as morning rain,..
Anne’s Yawn: Roaring Through It Anne yawns — wild as the MGM lion, Jaw unfurling in slow-motion spectacle, Lips stretching, raspberry pink, Her tongue a red carpet, rolling out for invisible guests, Teeth gleaming in a sunrise of surprise, The ceiling trembles at her operatic opening, She could swallow the morning whole. But behind..
Anne Likes Her Apple Crisp The apple sings in her palm— red and green, cool as autumn air. she bites, and it cracks—the sound sharp, clean, a burst of juice, sweet and tart like first snowfall. Flesh snaps beneath her teeth: firm, yet yielding, grain running smooth as river stones. Flavours gather—honeyed, grassy, a..
Villanelle: Caregiving Through the Storm A Reflection on Loving and Caring for a Loved One with Brain Cancer The gentle hush of morning fills the air, I steady trembling hands to start the day, Love weaves its promise gently everywhere. You drift between the shadows and the glare, Each memory, fragile, threatened with decay,..
The Symbolic Meaning of Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery”: Life as a Lottery I have always loved this story and taught it many times during my college teaching career. Of course the central theme of Shirley Jackson’s “The Lottery” is that blindly following tradition can lead to violence and cruelty. But I think that the..
The Fiery Beauty of Fall I wrote this sonnet to underscore the symbolic significance of the fall season, in the life of our family in particular this year. A Sonnet on Autumn’s Vibrant Finale In autumn’s breath, a wild inferno glows, The maples flare in scarlet, gold, and flame. Each trembling leaf..