POEMS

     Poetry has always been important to me. One of the first poems I wrote was published in a local newspaper when I was in seventh grade. I continued to write poetry as a teenager, even after realizing that not everyone thought it was all that cool. More recently, several of my poems have been selected for public display in Iowa City’s “Poetry in Public” competitions. Also, one of my poems was selected as a winner in the poetry category in the 2020 University of Iowa College of Medicine’s creative writing competition, and it was then published in an associated Creative Writing Anthology (2020).

In my new YA novel, Dancing with No Shoes, the main character is a young writer named David, whose writing includes poetry, mostly inspired by the girl who captures his heart. A handful of David’s poems — including the lyrics to an original blues song — are woven into the narrative of the novel. It could be said that the novel began as a poem called David Danced, which was selected for “Poetry in Public” and inspired the story that eventually became Dancing with No Shoes. Several of my poems, including David Danced, are featured below.

David Danced

His hand guided the wheelchair into a smooth arc
until the room became a blur — spinning, dancing,
melting into streams of color and light.
He hovered, weightless, suspended in air,
touching heaven without touching earth.
And he danced until the world disappeared
and joy filled the empty spaces.

An Iowa City “Poetry in Public” Selection (2013)

First Taste

I remember the first taste of spring,
before the ground softened
and the blue squills opened,
when the breeze was gentle on my skin
and sun flowed down like warm butter.
It was just the faintest taste,
but it was so sweet!

An Iowa City “Poetry in Public” Selection (2018)

Heavy Lifting

The porch was softly cool, shaded from the noon sun
by a burr oak with twin trunks.
The creaking of the old rocker rose in rhythm with the bending
of grandpa’s back, bowed from so much heavy lifting.
The boy sitting at his feet, humming, with bare legs dangling off the porch,
could not know how hard it is to lift a youth from boy to man
or how, too often, a good strong back is hard to find.

An Iowa City “Poetry in Public” Selection (2019)

Small

I brushed against your shirt today,
the one with the small grey stripes,
hanging on a peg by the door.

It was so small and so delicately rumpled,
with the folds of the sleeve falling
gently at just the right angles.

And I pictured you wrapped in the shirt and smiling at me,
and I remembered how my hand fits perfectly
in the small of your back.

Winner in Poetry, University of Iowa College of Medicine Creative Writing Competition (2020)

     As age has affected me and my family, I’ve realized that words are not sufficient to capture the depth of human experience. I’ve described these feelings in a poem written for my mother as her health was failing. These are the thoughts of a writer who never planned to be a writer and who has learned to appreciate both the magic and limitations of words:

Beyond Words 

Words are magical!

They can stand at attention
in straight dictionary rows,
unabridged,
teeming with meaning.

They can paint exotic pictures in passionate colors,
  transporting us to new worlds
on well-worn pages,
  smooth to the touch.

They can serve up news, fresh and hot,
in bold headlines bursting with promise
or offer comfort, tenderly,
whispered softly in a young child’s ear.

  When words fail, stumbling into jumbled randomness,
  we can embrace the silence: calm, dark, pure.

  For even in silence, there is remembrance,
  and love abides – too deep for words.