Baryshnikov remembers
a sunny day in Latvia

Holding on to his mother's dress
which is chiffon
with yellow and purple flowers

remembers her ash-blond hair
her bright blue eyes


The escape artists
are identical twins

and remember each other


The three-year-old boy says
'It was red

And very cold'


Susan Hansford
summered on Lake Michigan

Her father
afraid of storms
would often embrace her as the clouds darkened

'How beautiful' 'How beautiful'


a trap springs
in the rat-infested grapes

Harry's fingers ribbon with blood

I remember Harry
sweet drunken Harry

-Robert Dana

I love this poem. I've been thinking about it since I joined facebook last week. I love facebook, but connecting with all these long lost friends and acquaintances have stirred up so many memories. I'm woozy with them at the moment.

I've decided for national poetry month, to write every day. I may (may) even share something with you...we'll see.

If you would like to be emailed a poem a day for National Poetry Month go here.

I'm sitting in our bed with the lap top ready for a night of reading and writing. I'm surrounded by:
The kids are asleep, and have been since 7. If I ever complain about my kids waking up at 5:30 or 6:00am every morning just tell me to shut-up, because the trade-off is that they go to bed EARLY. And I would much rather have time to do whatever I please in the evening than time to myself in the morning.

So I'm off--
to drown myself in words.