Poem By Shawna Brackens-Maggard

We laughed, shared secrets, sometimes even dreams
but then she had to go to sleep
when I woke up the room was silent.
Where were those familiar sounds
of laughter that had once filled the air?
And who were all those people gathered
in the living room, dining room,
front porch, everywhere?
"Where's Marilyn," I asked.
Fried chicken, covered dishes
kin folks and friends
tears flowed
like rivers and streams
the minister prayed
and bowed his head
in sorrow
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,
"She's asleep," Momma said.
"She's asleep."

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Divine Optometrist

Lord please use the delicate tool of the
Word to restore sight to our blinded eyes.
Allow the bluriness to cease so that
we may become more focused on you each day.

Gentle Rebuke

Still I deny the laughter in the trees
mixed with the leaves
the ill-forgotten breeze
essence of nature