National Poetry Month Day 7


without fail
whenever out together
we are asked:
where are you from?
as if this city has no time
for a wide smile or
a kind word
as if the cement of these streets
renders impossible
the laughter of a private joke
the tender of a stolen kiss
as if all of us
are too overwhelmed
and underpaid
to revel in each other
to share grace
to speak beautiful
as if

April is National Poetry Month – one of my favorite times of year, where I attempt to write a poem every day. I’m having trouble writing these days, so I’m very far behind, but determined to write my thirty. They won’t be perfect, they never are, but they’ll be here, throughout the month of April.


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