Tag Archives: chalk

poem stitched in sidewalk chalk 

this poem is neither here nor there,line nor square               (one).  she has scrib-bled her-self in sidewalk chalk, and then hopscotched across her own bright skin,left just one small skipping stone within.  shhh.she’s still here,still stained. waiting for rain.  :: In April, we poem. This is also a second … Continue reading

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Murder of One 

There’s a lone crow on a power                                        (trip) line, squawking about somethingor other, and we’ve discovered there is nothing left to say.  Somehow, we are both here                (there, anywhere, nowhere) too lateand too soon.  Our only remaining evidence: this chalk outline                               moon.  :: It’s Quadrille Monday over at … Continue reading

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in protest of these most ridiculous times

, {we gather} paint and chalk and sequins and glitter and markers and mayhem. and then we make a mess ……………………………..-age.   .. in april, we poem. sometimes late.       

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i can’t imagine her wild

{mood ring: forgiveness, and other disasters} i. midnight-maroon, for her darkest hour swoon, her great craving for protest and anti -hate, war. ii. gun metal gray for her weary worn heart and its shaky veins, brave un -broken beat. iii. … Continue reading

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Broken Chalk

.. This poem got dropped on its head on the way over here, and there is perhaps nothing left but dust. But it’s periwinkle magic, so you’ll trust me when I say that you should read it, anyway.   .. … Continue reading

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across the street from his house

.. , she skips rope plays eenie meenie miney mo on tutu’d tiptoes. smears her whole name in bright green chalk, feels brave.     .. In November, we poem. 

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A(u)nti(e) Social

.. She draws dragons on her front walk in the brightest colors she can find, blues and purples and greens, with yellowed eyes. They’re not for good luck. They’re to keep out the real beasties. Prying eyes and false smiles, … Continue reading

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Chalkdust Princess, Sidewalk Queen

.. She preens in periwinkle. She’s always had a pen -chant for the purples, and the blues. Doodles dragons, smudges sirens and silly songs, daisy chains of rainbow hues. Quick as you please, she coppers the cracks, magentas a moon. … Continue reading

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Oh, the marvelous beat of skipping feet

.. Won’t you hopscotch walk with me? We have a moon to catch, and she is waiting for us to 1-2-3 our fumbled feet right up into her gold-spilled shine. Sit here, curb -sighed, and wander-wild. We’ll hold our breaths … Continue reading

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Slumber Party Songs

A cherry is the fruit of many almonds, she says, while ty(p)ing the string with her tongue and teeth. I don’t know what it means but I like the sound and the way we are both December sweet -hearts and … Continue reading

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