Tag Archives: aphasia
Yesterday’s Treasure
If I concentrate on the color I might wear out tomorrow, I could forget my father is a hoarder. Even now, tubes of ChapStick (without microphones), rolls of toilet paper, stacks of Hershey bars (dark chocolate without nuts) surround him. … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Aphasia Part II
A lifelong conversation winds around the trunks of bare trees. She’s left to support his silence so he won’t fall down the rabbit hole. The one she can’t peer into for fear she might like what she sees. Might not … Continue reading
Filed under Overnight Poems
Wellington Place
After all these years, all you have said, you’re still afraid of him. He has only a few words left. They won’t hurt. Rarely did. It was the ones he threw at those around you. To be so privileged can … Continue reading
Filed under Afternoon Poems
Clutching Tags
Aphasia is anonymous in its demand that poems be written without words. I’m not ready to give mine up. The wave of an ampersand ropes them in just in time.
Filed under Night Poems
Asbury Park
Your name too terrifying to say, all those wounds on display before there were scars. They say you are rescuing yourself now. But back then you were locked out, no one in Ocean Grove dared to hold the key. And … Continue reading
Filed under Morning Poems
