
dull January
reaches icy majesty,
at sunset
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

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.

some days
the light shines brightest
behind the tree line
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

resolved,
to recognize stars
in winter wastes Continue reading

Thankful for family,
the four who stay with me
despite this year of separations. Continue reading

autumn rain
slapping five with maple leaves,
pitter-pat splats
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

when the weight carried
presses me into the ground
I have to let go Continue reading

When doors slam,
things look tough, or
your heart is drumming it,
Remember you’re
the AMAZING YOU
and keep humming it. Continue reading

a palette of earthtones
paints hillsides
with Autumn song
Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

Write your story
for words are
perfect petals
that bring color
to the world.
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

yellow manes,
faces tilted toward the sun
ROAR of color
Copyright 2020 Brenda Davis Harsham Continue reading

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.