You don’t even look like
the person I used to know, any more
I don’t know what’s happened.
Did you get taller somehow?
Ah
No.
We don’t do that
when we’re this age.
poem- blocked communication April 13, 2016
Dear Grandma,
No one
wants to know
about the state
of your
bowels.
Please save
your colourful tales
of abdominal distress
for your medical advisors.
Elimination is
NEVER
appropriate
dinner table
conversation.
.
.
.
(You’d think this was common sense, wouldn’t you?)
poem-arrows April 21, 2015
Sometimes I get the feeling
our words are arrows
passing each other,
feathers steering a fine point
that misses its mark.
You declare a bulls eye,
but your arrow’s embedded in your neighbour’s target.
My arrow twitches in the straw
waiting for another chance.
A quiver full of words
I hope each aims true,
but sometimes the flight path
looks quite different to you
poem-bone bling March 30, 2015
“So what happened exactly?”
the students asked,
and I told them about the fall,
casts, surgery, plate, and screws.
“Ha!” one laughed, “That’s perfect for you!”
“Why?” I asked
“Because now
even your skeleton
has bling!”
.
.
True story.
I love my students.
🙂
poem-contact October 23, 2014
Communication is so easy
Facebook, Twitter, text, phone
a million ways to message instantly:
No excuses for
your silence.
.
.
(I could also have entitled this, “Call Your Mother!”) 😉
Shawn L. Bird 