“Dear 9 year old me” Stay in your room Let them sort it out You are not responsible It is not your fault She is sick in her mind A devil on the loose Do not open the door There is nothing you can do…

Coffee in the pot You laying at my side Your hair all messy and wild The hush of the morning muting the early sounds Sunlight creeping in through the fog of the Midwest dawn Too warm for sweaters, yet much too cold for bare feet…

It is common knowledge that otters sleep on their backs on the surface of the water, holding one another’s hands so they don’t drift off and get lost or worse. It is also known that bees snuggle together when they sleep, often intertwining their legs,…

Damn…That night was extra ordinary,  A stunning thick blanket of stars…. The night called in a hush  A somber reverie, A settling fog that intended to stay.  Moonbeam poured a pale milky white ray  like lights of pearls  accompanying the stars. I cradled my warm…

A spoonful of foggy dreams from a shelf made of fir Pour into your cup of coffee ‘Twill make you come alive And do not forget to add a sliver of moonbeam Now, you can handle anything Concrete or unseen

SCREWED!   Damn coffee is thick as concrete Wish I had grabbed my canteen off of the shelf A little extra kick it holds would help break this fog I am in.   Writing from the edge of the dock seemed poetic at the time…

By the light of a moonbeam That peeked through the night fog A hush grew over the concrete dock I peered out my window As I grabbed my coffee from the top shelf When suddenly, I heard a gigantic crash The ground shook and the…

Write a poem as a letter to a former version of yourself. Make that fact clear in the title. For example it could be called “Dear Former Self” or it could be much more specific such as “Dear Caitlin, Age 19 with the Broken Nose”….

I remained silent Stubborn to not reveal my heart Your heart, you knew so well You knew just how to twist And yet I remained silent Can I reveal the fire that burns so bright And burn your hate away? Leave behind the scattered words…

Moon beams illuminate the hush of fog. Silhouettes of fir cross the page. I write three words more and ease a sip from my canteen of coffee.