Category: Poetry

  • A POEM A DAY 239

    Ghost in the Fog In the hush where morning lingers,A pale spirit parts the mist,Silent as an ancient secret,Soft as winter on the wrist.Eyes like weathered moons are watching,Calm beneath the silver sky,Holding storms it never speaks of,Letting passing shadows die.Ghost-white mane in quiet motion,Breath dissolving into air,A lonely king of fog and stillness,Wrapped in…

  • A POEM A DAY 238

    Where Love Goes Love doesn’t leave all at once.It loosens first—a thread pulled from a seamyou didn’t know was holding everything together.It settles into ordinary places:the quiet side of the bed,the mug you stop reaching for,the space between sentenceswhere something used to answer back.It lingers in the body,a muscle that remembershow to reach without thinking,how…

  •  A POEM A DAY 237

    Dissonance He wakes to sunlight tasting wrong,a sweetness cut with metal bright,the clock ticks loud but time feels bent,each second stretching out of sight.His smile fits like borrowed clothes,warm at first, then tight with seams,his laughter cracks in brittle notesthat splinter softly through his dreams.He moves through rooms that buzz and hum,air thick as wool…

  •  A POEM A DAY 236

    Neon Red My crush comes flashing neon red,a stoplight pulse inside my head.It hums beneath my quiet skin,a siren song I’m pulled right in.I try to cool it down to blue,pretend I feel what others do,but every thought ignites instead,my heart lit up in neon red.It glows too loud, it won’t behave,a reckless color I…

  • by Shel Silverstein This poem should be framed and hung on the wall of every child because it quietly but powerfully rewrites the limits adults so often place on young minds. Shel Silverstein moves through the language children hear every day—“don’ts,” “shouldn’ts,” “impossibles”—and then deliberately overturns them, replacing restriction with possibility. It’s not just encouragement;…

  •  A POEM A DAY 235

    Still, She Is She wakes before the world is ready and carries the day anyway.She learns early how to hold two truths at once: strength and softness, fear and resolve.She becomes fluent in adaptation—not because she wants to, but because life keeps asking.She is not extraordinary because she never breaks.She is extraordinary because she does—and…

  • A POEM A DAY 234

    Where You Go I Will Be Where you go, I will be—not ahead of you, not behind,but beside the quiet you carrywhen the road asks for faith.If you wander into shadow,I’ll learn the dark with you,name the shapes fear takesuntil it loosens its grip.If you run toward light,I won’t slow you down—I’ll keep pace with…

  • A POEM A DAY 233

    He schools his breath, keeps posture loose,let’s confidence arrive unforced,measures every word he chooses,hoping charm won’t sound rehearsed.He watches how her laughter lands,files each detail in his mind,steps close enough to feel the heat,but far enough to seem benign.He wonders if she feels it too,that current passing hand to hand,and plots no ending—only this:to stay,…

  • Insistence Roots claw the wall, damp breath of stone, Sap and rust and rainbone grown. Leaves whisper dust, green tasting air, Bark splits open, musk everywhere. Sun warms lichen, sweet and sour, Time drips slow in vine and flower. The wall groans low, the roots reply— Life insists. It will not die. Simona A. Brinson…

  • Where Does It Hurt?

    It hurts in the placewhere your hand used to be—small fingers waitingfor yours to close around themlike a promise.You let go quietly.Not a yank, not a break—just a looseningI didn’t understanduntil I was already alone.It hurts at the tablewhere your laughter livesfor everyone else,bright as a candleI am not allowed to touch.For me, there is…