For my daughter

Robb Elementary School

America loves her children.

she nurtured them so they did grow.

and kisses their head before

tucking them in as she dreams

of the things they will do.

America loves her children

she cradles them tight to her chest

and swears to defend again

each bitter word. They are perfect

in all that they do.

America loves her children

but they are just so hungry for food

so the school remained closed as

the blood is scrubbed up. And there are graves

that need to be dug.

She felt the chill

alone breeze A week ago, the shades

oranges so bright in the sun.

but as she blinked from the pain,

as the pink hues,

night peaking against the murky

ground. she wondered how many

had been picked just to rot

In the winter sun.

Day three of national poetry month.

This poem was written in response to the prompt of Ghost. I want to play on the idea that our most intimates part of ourselves can be easily coopted.

For the second day of poetry month. I am uploading a piece I wrote in response to the prompt “haunted party.” I hope you enjoy.

For poetry writing month, I will be sharing old and new poems of mine. This one is inspired by Emily Dickinson’s “My life has stood a loaded gun.”

Someday: a found poem

sometimes the words don’t come from you, but they flow from others

Whenever I’m in a slump, I grab a book that’s bound from the trash and try to make something new.