I lay awake Thoughts of times past The sound of your footsteps pacing The sanctuary of hot coffee Silver of…
Browsing: poetry
My mother loses the tip of her nose to melanoma. She loses her last sweetheart Art when his daughter forced…
Age has found me with a tube of red lipstick, a missing front tooth and a partial I had to…
The history of my hair My curls These grays…. My canas Are the maps of my life Each strand confirms…
I leave the hard liquor and the loud talk, that special pot of New Years’ souse. I seek the quiet…
I do not recognize the hand that grasps mine… Strong, but no flesh-cushion smooths its bony contours. Brown, but bluish…
Springtime returns, burdened with poetry. Tulips nod by the water lily-dotted pool where layer upon joyous layer of color brightens.…
In the crisp clear air of winter nipping at autumn’s backside, the neighbor’s persimmon tree stands two and a half…
Curator’s Statement – Lorraine Currelley It was my honor to curate Mom Egg VOX Gallery, January…
You, little movie theatre in Harlem, two blocks from my home, Do you remember how you took Mama and me…