poetpotter

 I've been thinking this week of a friend at my former church who died early in 2022. I pondered our connection through our church and beyond. She was a preschool teacher, tutor, committed parent, and dedicated member of the church. She tutored one of my own grandchildren for a time as well. The poem began sometime after Cheryl's death, when I was out walking one evening, watching the sun lower in the sky until it was nearly set. And it reminded me of Cheryl and her life and how she gave of it until so close to the end.   I will let the poem speak the rest of my thoughts. "An Evening Poem" was published by Tower Poetry that same year.     An Evening Poem Each step I take The sun dips lower in the sky     I will return before the light dives into the western horizon   Purple and pink clouds surround it giving the sky a painter’s look   I stand and think about the love you gave   the glowing orb dips a little l...

Deep in winter, when everything is frozen hard, you'll know the feeling, I'm sure, of bundling up to keep warm when you do have to go out. Scarf, hat and mittens. When the trees are coated and the rooftops are layered with snow. Here's how it feels... The Cold Creaks Buildings creak and groan, it’s so cold; snow crunches under boots, shoes and tires,   hard-packed freezes words as they are spoken all that warm air escaping into the ether —frozen ether People hurry up the wind-scoured street wearing hats of fur, fleece and fabric hands in mitts, hands in pockets, scarves around neck, nose and mouth catching all that warm air to breathe back in but some brave the bitter cold foolishly with coat unbuttoned, unzipped no scarf, hat or mittens to keep them warm Will the cold wind whistle in their ears, freeze their fingers, freeze their nose, and frost their hair? will their breath turn to icicles— no scar...