Guest Post By Kay Davidson

There is an emptiness in this space

That feels strange, unfamiliar.

The strangeness –

Nothing pushing me forward

Nothing pulling me back

No ” I used to be..” / no former identity

No call to be anything else.


I stand ‘here’ – child-like –

In a kind of wonder-land

Taking it in, the freshness of it.


What is here?

What is ‘here’ like?

Where is the ground here?

How am I with ‘here’?

What is not here?


PS: I wonder if I’ll ever know.

It comes and goes..

This strangeness.



Poet’s Challenge


I sit down, try to write.

 Dog and cats put up a fight.

Walk? Snacks? Pats? Play?

They sigh and look my way.

I shake my head and decline.

I just want to sit and rhyme.

They exchange a sullen glance.

Dog begins to paw and prance.

Cats take a different tack,

kneading and purring to call me back.

My eyes widen suddenly.

I was blind, but now I see.

They have come to inspire me.


Out My Way

Every day since winter

announced its icy presence,

we’ve gathered fallen branches,

moved fallen trees,

offered heartfelt thanks

that we’re still standing.