poetry

for Kamo

Someone said to me this week “sometimes abandoning your child is the greatest act of love,” about a child named Kamo, who was neglected and then abandoned six years ago and just returned to the mother who left him, right as he nears the end of his life. It’s a notion I’ve wondered on sinceContinueContinue reading “for Kamo”

Things That Appear Broken But Upon Closer Inspection Are Beautiful

In the midst of many movements, physical and figurative and of the soul, words I once wrote have a way of coming back around: 11 November 2014 Things That Appear Broken But Upon Closer Inspection Are Beautiful A slight glint of the equator peeks through the rust on the dilapidated gurney. Soft eyelashes continuing toContinueContinue reading “Things That Appear Broken But Upon Closer Inspection Are Beautiful”

Irish Skies, Soliciting The Soul’s Response

Written while gazing out the window of a bus journeying from Northern Ireland, where we have just spent three days, to Galway and Lehinch, on the west coast of Ireland, where we will spend the next ten days. I. Sun glides, glints, gallops across cliffy coast line, shrouding ground in gold, then turns fire- some,ContinueContinue reading “Irish Skies, Soliciting The Soul’s Response”

Lake District: A Dialogue Poem

*This is a dialogue poem, to be read across the page as one poem, then down the left and right columns as their own poems. ** The words on the left are a quote by Leslie Kaminoff and Amy Matthews, which I stumbled into reading this morning on the train platform just before leaving theContinueContinue reading “Lake District: A Dialogue Poem”

This trimester, in addition to writing my senior thesis on the intersections of compassion and poverty in care for ill and dying children in Kenya, in addition to transitioning back into life away from Kenya, in addition to learning how to walk peacefully through life’s unexpected gusts of wind, I am taking a creative writingContinueContinue reading “poetry”

when the poem speaks loudly

Every night before I sleep, I read a poem from the best thing I brought to Dakar: Good Poems by Garrison Keillor. I flip through at random and read. Sometimes they speak loudly, sometimes more softly, sometimes it’s hard to hear at all. But I like the process, because when it all aligns and theContinueContinue reading “when the poem speaks loudly”