July is midway,
roses climb, lilies dance, but
summer is half gone
Copyright 2022 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
Turning a Corner
Category Archives: Current Events
One Wish
Elder weed sends up
starry-white flowers,
mini-Queen Anne’s lace.
Its rhizome roots
crowd out hapless
coral bells and astilbe
under our pear tree. Continue reading
Beware the Ides of March
Be you a young Russian soldier
doing as you’re told or
a young Ukrainian,
castaway
from home, Continue reading
Storms are Coming
storms are coming,
as the skies grow dark, remember,
you can’t dodge the rain
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
Spring-like July
how I miss spring’s
dazzle and swirling petals
of lilacs and pears;
this wet July brings to mind
those cool, delicious days
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
A Day for Mothers
a day for mothers,
pear blooms scented by lilacs
dapple the sunshine
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading
Snowdrop Spring
Snowdrops appear;
Robin Redbreast
draws near. Continue reading
Healing
Weave your story
with mine,
and we will never
live alone.
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: If you have time, watch the incandescent poem below, the inspiration for my poem, found when I went looking for wind and waves. At this time of too many divisions, let’s remember the past and honor each others’ stories. We need to unite, fight the virus, not each other.
Oral Traditions
— William Nu’Utupu Giles and Travis T.
Ode to Photography
Time,
present and past.
Frozen moments,
remembered and forgotten.
Beauty,
ordinary and extraordinary.
Photographic power
reveals in light and dark
what my mother looked like as
a young girl,
or my father as
he welcomed me to the world,
or myself
as I smiled between
brother and sister
whose faces are only visible
in black and white now.
Lost faces, missed warmth, people
linger in shades, lines, and shapes,
like hieroglyphics of the past.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: For World Photography Day today, I offer this ode, in gratitude for how concrete my memories are, of times past.
Colors Unbounded
All colors
should be free
to be,
to be as covered in glory
or as mired in earth
as needed,
or to stretch between the two,
bowing faces to roots or
lifting shining faces
in sunshine, Continue reading
Glorious Color
As the cardinal calls
pretty, pretty, pretty,
apple blossoms
quiver like
cabbage butterflies
in lilac-scented sunshine. Continue reading
Music in the Trees
I miss shaking a newspaper,
folding it closed, washing
black ink from my fingers,
feeling accomplished before
moving on with my day.
Instead, I hopscotch a crazy-quilt —
CNN. BBC. MSNBC. Fox. Round
and round, site to site and back,
never washing the stain
of sad news from my heart. Continue reading
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