This first one is mine but I can’t put my name under the title because it will interrupt the flow (what do that call that?  a poetic conceit?)  And just so you know?  This is a true story!

One Day

one of those end-of-winter
days when the sun goes

down

far too early

again

when snow crocus and snow
drops still sleep beneath a
white blanket

and the birds look like
milkweed fluff caught
in tree branches

on such a day I called
for feathers
for no less reason
than the need to believe
I could fly

     As daffodils broke
into flower
feathers began to fall

slowly at first

a jay’s blue floated
     with new tadpoles
a cardinal’s red caught
     in fence wire
then three crows’ black fell
     along my morning path,

followed by a blizzard

     feathers
          falling

as though pillows
     were breaking

as though someone
     were listening

to prayers

for feathers

so I might learn to fly.    

Following is actually a prose post, but it reads exactly like a poem.  I love Brook’s work – I hope you will too!.

Hear This…

      By Brooke Castillo (original post here)    

I love you.

I do know you.

I know pain.

I know hiding and keeping secrets and pretending.

I know you lie to yourself and others.  And I love you anyway.

I know you compete and try to be better than.

I know you put others down in your mind to feel better.

And I love you.

I know you think you aren’t worthy.

I know you are sometimes lazy.

And I love you.

I love you when you overeat and when you sneak.

I love you when you overspend and go into debt.

I love you when you cheat on yourself or the ones you love.

There is nothing you can do that will change my love for you.

There is no secret you could tell me that would change that. Ever.

I know you were molested and raped and that you molested others.

And I love you.

I know you stole and cheated and have thoughts that scare you.

And I love you.

I know you yell at your kids and your partner. I know you hate your body and wrinkles.

But I don’t.  I love every single part of you.

The cellulite. The muffin top. The sagging parts of you.

I love you when you forget birthdays and feed the kids cereal for dinner.

I love you as you hate your job and I know you sometimes hate your mother.

I love you.

I love you.

I mean it.

You are my people. My clients. My friends.

I love you today and every day.

Just thought you should know.