Fool in love[d] (Poetry month is here)

This is going to be quick.
That is one benefit of being a single mother (on a snow day).
You don’t have time to over wallow, worry, or wonder the what if’s.

I fell in big love.
And wrote a poem or two
for you or for me?

There was this one that made us both smile:


Like the brazen red
leaf you announce fiercely that
this heart will open

Now several months later a snow day spent (not unremarkably) apart yields:

Our Nor’easter

Shovels were stored though
with seeds, soil poised instead
my heart’s in the shed


(Don’t worry! Upbeat poems are gathering on little scraps of memories too. And parenting poems. Being 43 poems. Open adoption poems. Who is driving this truck poems. They are just not as suited for a flash storm in April.)

In honor of poetry month, I hope to share some new poems, highlight some old faves, invite a few guest poets on board (both living and dead) and end the month with a little poetry related announcement my groovy readers will hopefully be jazzed about.

On April 1oth, I will have the opportunity to participate in the blog tour of Adam Pertman’s Adoption Nation. I’m working through the book now, and a few questions for the author, which I hope he’ll have the chance to respond to at that time. A drawing for your own copy of the book will be run next week as well.

To inspire, and shake it up a bit, I’d like to invite you to leave a line of poetry in the comments. A favorite line from a favorite poem. From a poem you always meant to finish. From a poem the boy or girl in 7th grade you had a crush on read to you while standing on a curb because you were so much taller, so you never forgot it. A line from a poem your grandfather whispered in your ear before you went to sleep in the sweet little room that you always thought was just for you.

Now I have to go shovel my driveway, and make a slush creature, while dodging icy wet orbs. Have fun!








  1. Before we met, you and I were halves unjoined except in the wide
    rivers of our minds. We were each other’s distant shore, the
    opposite wings of a bird, the other half of a seashell. We did not
    know the other then, did not know our determination to keep alive
    the cry of one riverbank to the other. We were apart, yet connected
    in our ignorance of each other, like two apples sharing a common
    tree. Remember?

    I knew you existed long before you understood my desire to join my
    freedom to yours. Our paths collided long enough for our indecision
    to be swallowed up by the greater need of love. When you came to me,
    the sun surged towards the earth and moon escaped from darkness to
    bless the union of two spirits, so alike that the creator had designed them
    for life’s endless circle. Beloved partner, keeper of my heart’s odd secrets,
    clothed in summer blossoms so the icy hand of winter never touches us.
    I thank your patience. Our joining is like a tree to earth,
    a cloud to sky and even more. We are the reason the world can laugh
    on its battlefields and rise from the ashes of its selfishness to hear me say,
    in this time, this place, this way – I loved you best of all.

  2. The last line; “We are the reason the world can laugh…I loved you best of all” had me in the chest cavity. OK the riverbank line is pure gold too. Peace Mama. Damn.

  3. Have I ever written gently
    of stars and candles in quiet rooms
    of the breath of bamboo whispering
    in thin shadows of the moon
    of the way the silence leads one
    in spirals through a maze
    wandering alone
    through mist whichever way

    That’s the opening lines of a poem my Mum wrote for me when we were living apart when I was a teenager. I just discovered your blog tonight and thought I’d join in. I’m an Australian who is just about to begin the process of trying to adopt from foster care as a single woman. I’ve also just started a blog and the title is another line from the poem above. Now I’m off to trawl through the rest of this blog – I just know I am going to love it.

  4. Hello Dear Kate

    I know this is still Poetry month. Growing Older certainly get our attention. Here is my contribution from a book/author Saved by a Poem

    Remember there is a Great Incapacitator.

    God gave you this inability for some reason.
    Ask why. Say “I have tried,
    but I’m in a losing business.

    I did what you warned me not to.
    I claimed not to love the world’s images,
    bt I’ve been worshipping them.”


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