Patchwork Prose and Verse
it’s Grandparent’s Day Breakfast for us
with our always-reading grandson
a fourteen-year-old freshman
born only yesterday
today, he plans to
be a pastor
of a church
someday
soon
but
for now
he teaches
Sunday School class
holds Bible studies
with his youth group mid-week
and volunteers as leader
his great grandfather (and great-great)
were also called into ministry
my fall bucket list:
cinnamon-honey butter
for breakfast bagels
next I’ll knit a warm wool hat
after that, I’ll brew clove tea
then I’ll buy a pear candle
and snuggle our dogs
just them and me
we stand upstairs in
her old bedroom watching deer
graze in the forest
empty nest feelings
come rushing strong when she’s here
happy tear visits
my youngest daughter
home with her forever love ~
a new family
extra excitement
this time on their visit home
a growing secret……
when we came home
from our camping
weekend, there he was
hanging out in the
pine trees slated for
clear cutting
in these trees he’s loved
for years, where I too
have loved watching him
soon his mate appears
and they swoop
from tree to tree
and I hope to God
there is no little
owlet tucked away
in the safety of
a doomed tree
a honeybee
took a liking
to my Cayman Jack
margarita
climbing into
the bottle
taking a long swig
then a dip
then a plunge
then a swirl
and died
a senseless
death as I
tried to help
her back
to a better life
but she
refused to
admit her
problem ~
she’s buried
at campsite 301
by the fire pit
a pollinator
extraordinare
her life cut
short by
the delusional
pleasures of
this world
a tiny black wet
Schnoodle nose
nudges my arm as
marble-black eyes
covered with wild brows
peer up at me
from the camper seat
when I lift my arm
to raise my mug,
drink cold brew coffee
from my Halloween
Snoopy mug I truly
believe will make
the cool temperatures
arrive sooner ~
Fitz is slumped
against me,
seeking, too, all
the magic of
forthcoming fall
the changing
of seasons, gentle
wind blowing outside,
a tad early for the
acorns peppering the
camper’s roof but
all the rest of
the comfort of rituals
he knows as
reassuring trust
and belonging
in his forever family
next time he
goes to a
storytelling night
he will time his
cliffhanger at
exactly two and
one half minutes
and then when
they tap that
ridiculous spoon
on the coffee cup
to signal thirty
more seconds
he will smile
return to his seat
leave everyone
hanging
and sit down
Today: Book Launch Day
order your copies to read
and to pass along!
(see the links below)
🌟 Exciting News! 🌟
We’re thrilled to announce the release of our new books designed to inspire and support teachers in creating classrooms where every student feels seen and heard. 📚✏️
Free download here: http://www.ethicalela.com/store
Free download here: https://open.library.okstate.edu/justya/
For sale here: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Sarah-J.-Donovan/author/B01GLZG89Y
Want to hear the story behind the books? Watch this video where we share the journey and heart behind these resources that aim to bring more connection, creativity, and compassion into your classrooms. 🎥✨
👉 https://youtu.be/tdRSC0dYPgI?si=QR9E7mY0l7LWGqX8
We can’t wait to see how these books will spark creativity and foster community in classrooms across the country. Happy reading and writing! 💙 #NewBooks #TeachingResources #PoetryInClassrooms #InclusiveEducation #90WaysofCommunity #WordsThatMend #JustYA
in my melatonin dreams
the cemetery trees
hung low over the corner
graves in a
chain link grocery store
parking lot ~
going in for milk and eggs
I couldn’t
believe my eyes.
A refrigerator.
a pine box with a plunger
stuck to the top to open it
for anyone who wanted to
see the body inside, there
above ground
no one would believe this~
I took a picture
then woke up
horrified that anyone
would be buried in
a display grave
Common Threads 