Poem of the Week

I wrote this poem seventeen years ago, after watching one of my daughters standing on a stool at the kitchen sink. A few things have changed in those years: that daughter and her brother and sister have grown up, I’m happy with blonde hair and I’d settle for an eight-minute mile. But everything else still … Continue reading Poem of the Week

Poem of the Week

Signing My Name – Alison Townsend An artist always signs her name, my mother said when I brought her my picture, a puddled blur of scarlet tempera I thought resembled a horse. She dipped the brush for me and watched while I stroked my name, each letter drying, ruddy, permanent as blood. Later, she found … Continue reading Poem of the Week