
The world hums with voices
as the warm days fly by,
people in pain
virus numbers climbing
exhausted frontline workers
and protestors in peril.
Continue reading

The world hums with voices
as the warm days fly by,
people in pain
virus numbers climbing
exhausted frontline workers
and protestors in peril.
Continue reading

Every child dreams,
creates art,
writes poetry,
sings songs.
Why do most stop? Continue reading

As the cardinal calls
pretty, pretty, pretty,
apple blossoms
quiver like
cabbage butterflies
in lilac-scented sunshine. Continue reading

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

All the flowers, poems
cards, and teddy bears
left on sidewalks
after someone died
somehow
don’t fill
the painful void
where a person
we loved
once lived.
Only progress
toward justice
can ease the pain.
A little.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

June came late,
after May rains slanted,
and gardens were planted. Continue reading

A world
afire with color
and rage
against those
who don’t see
color
as beautiful
as precious
as connected
to all of us.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

On the edge of a knife,
words sustain my life,
address
my stress
and lessen household strife.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Continue reading

time to bloom
when the sunshine calls,
let loose
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading


The scent of spring soil,
wet and loamy,
is the scent of beginnings,
of hope and faith. Continue reading

rain-soaked soil squelches,
toad high-hops, hip-hoppity,
among green shoots
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading