VerseLove Day 12: The Poetry of Everyday

Rita DiCarne of Pennsylvania is our host today for the 12th day of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com. She inspires us to write list poems, prose-style or with line, about all the things we love. It makes me think of Tom T. Hall’s song, “I Love.” You can read Rita’s full prompt here.

You can hear Tom T. Hall’s “I Love” here.

The Nest

I like going places~

camping, girls’ trips, weekend getaways

but I love coming home

I love bone-tired sleep, the kind where

you don’t move all night and have sheet imprints

on your face from the weight of

not carrying anything with you to bed

putting it all down at the foot

climbing in, clocking out, cloud-drifting off

I love waking up to dog noses

in my face saying Let’s Go Outside!

I love Skechers Slip-Ins for when the grass

is too tall and wet with dew for the regular slippers

I love opening the front door for the sun

to barge in, full of life and light and laughter

I love checking the bird nests, finding

a clutch of four brown-headed nuthatches

snuggled under mama bird on a

bright, cool Sunday morning

like a prayerful blessing of their own

a place where they will learn

to fledge, fly, and face a lifetime

of setting out and coming home

to their feathered nests

the places they’ll grow to love best

Verse Love Day 11: The Loves

Our host today is former high school English teacher, Kate Sjostrom , a teacher educator at the University of Illinois at Chicago and Writer in Residence at the Hemingway Foundation of Oak Park. 

You can read Kate’s full prompt here as she inspires us to write about emotions in concrete and abstract terms.

Brown and white bird with spotted chest singing on tree branch
A Wood Thrush sings while perched on a branch in a green forest.

Elation Over the Song of the Wood Thrush

it’s 6:38 a.m. when I hear it

we’ve just taken the boys out

to do their morning business

when a familiar note plays

from the branch-pew of a tree

on Pine Mountain

like a retro diner Jukebox favorite

a song to stir the heart

not call-like,

not chatty or operatic

definitely not theatric

(like that one lady in church,

thinks she can sing)

still, this voice offers hymn

praise to its maker and in

that way they are alike

this voice isn’t

wearing colorful Gucci garments –

picture instead

a simple watercolor painting of

dark, milk, and white chocolates

splotched with dots

and caramel feathers

the star voice of the woods

and doesn’t even know it

doesn’t show off or sing louder

like I would do with a voice

like that ~ why would I

ever say anything?

I’d sing it all, asking where the

tomatoes are in the grocery store

and what is my balance

at the bank and I’d be the

talk of the town for all the

wrong reasons ~ folks

would say I’ve gone off

the deep end

……but if I were a bird

I’d hope to be a Wood Thrush

the best voice in the choir

so humble

so unassuming

so musical

turning heads

with elation just to listen

and even sour Simon

Cowell would look up

and smile, knowing

there’s the talent

and press the Golden Buzzer

but with my Wood Thrush ways

I’d shun the competition

not needing his endorsement

I’d crap on his head

my own golden buzzer

on my way to another branch

still singing

Verse Love Day 10 : Villanelle Vibes ~ Georgia State Parks

Susan Ahlbrand of Indiana is our host today for Day 10 of Verselove at http://www.ethicalela, com, and she inspires us to write love letters to a place we love. She challenged us to try a villanelle, a 19-line poem of five tercets and a quatrain with a rhyme scheme and refrain sequence. As I sit on the campsite of a Georgia State Park recharging my batteries this week, I could not think of a more fitting place to pay tribute.

Villanelle Tribute to Georgia State Parks

out in the woods on a state park campsite

nestled in shade by meandering creek

Pollock-splashed beams of breeze-filtered sunlight

shelter from life’s woes, respite from plight

renewal blooms hope when refuge we seek

out in the wild on a state park campsite

Swallowtails air-dance on blackened blue-brights

welcoming wings, meditative mystique

sashaying rays of oak-splattered sunlight

flame-flickered campfires on stargazing nights

embers leap up to kiss Pegasus’ cheek

out in the wild on a state park campsite

mosaic edges softened by twilight

for life’s jagged junctures, outdoors re-key

shadowy brushstrokes, dusk-darkened moonlight

birdsong awakens, euphoric daylight

new trails to hike, fresh air to seize

out in the woods on a state park campsite

canvassing nature, the soul re-ignites

In honor of National Poem In My Pocket Day…..

I have a poem in my pocket

a perfect way to start

hummer at my feeder

hope restores my heart

VerseLove Day 6: Forgiveness Poems

Wendy Everard of New York is our host today for the sixth day of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com, encouraging us to write forgiveness poems. You can visit the website for her original prompt, which I’m sharing in part here as she quotes Joseph Bruchac from his book A Year of Moons: “It’s January here in our Adirondack foothills.  The time of Alamikos, the Abenaki term for the first moon of the new year.  In English, it’s the New Year’s Greeting Moon.  It’s the time when people would go from one wigwam to another – nowadays one house to another – and speak the New Year’s greeting,
Anhaldam mawi kassipalilawalan. Its meaning, translated into English, is, ‘Forgive me for any wrong I may have done you,’ a recognition of the fact that there is always more than one way to look at any situation, any human interaction, because it would be said not just to people you know you’ve wronged, but to everyone.  Everyone.”

She goes on to describe the process we can take writing our poems:

“Your poem can take any form you wish.  Bruchac urges us to ‘think of the times when your own feelings were injured by a word or deed from someone who was totally oblivious to the fact that they’d wounded you.  It happens more often than we think.  We’re in a hurry and we brush someone off.  We make a remark offhandedly or say something that we may think is humorous but in fact cuts another person to the quick.’  Or think of a time that this happened to you.  Or just write a general poem of forgiveness – giving it, asking for it, or struggling with it.  Reflect, and write a poem that captures the spirit of “anhaldam mawi kassipalilawalan.”

I’m not gonna lie. I’ve forgiven some doozies, and I’ve been forgiven for some doozies, others of which I may never be forgiven for, but I’m struggling with one that needs a lot of head space and heart space. I’m still chiseling away at it, ten months later. And poetry helps me see that I’m not alone in my struggle.

Black hearse towing an orange U-Haul trailer on a roadside with autumn foliage.
A hearse pulls a U-Haul trailer.

Jesus, Take the Reese’s Rabbits

His first Easter in Heaven yesterday

and here I am

his child,

His child,

recipient of God’s

ultimate sacrificial forgiveness

~ in the forgivingest season of all ~

and yet I struggle

after all the trying

to make things right

clear his hoarding

clean his messes

he curmudgeonly says NO on repeat

I hum Jesus, Take the Wheel on repeat

I cuss on repeat too

even in the midst of prayers

….and then he up and dies

with all this unfinished business

no U-Haul behind the hearse

like a final take that!

and I hope to good gracious

he gets none of the feast

of the blessed Easter lamb

or the chocolate bunnies or

especially any of those Reese’s cup rabbits

until we get the rest of his stuff

cleaned up and that may

take a few more Easters

but if he’d just listened

to his children

we wouldn’t be praying he’s

in time out up there

having to watch all the angels

who weren’t so stubborn

eat of the lamb and the chocolate

licking their angel fingers

at him on his antique stool

in a corner of Heaven

VerseLove Day 5: Antonymic Revelations

To bard or not to bard? That is today’s question from Jennifer Jowett of Michigan, our host for Day 5 of VerseLove at ethicalELA.com. Please join us to read poems, or write one of you own to share.

Jennifer encourages us to UNfind lines, making them opposite and see what they bring us in poetry. She says: “We’ve played with found lines. Sorted through them. Rearranged them. Created new poems from them.  But have we ever un-found them? Find a line of poetry that speaks to you. Un-find it by exchanging the main words with their antonyms. You may choose to keep smaller words like helping verbs, prepositions, and articles or use an opposite for those too. Write one line or several and join them together. Or use a line as a starting point for a longer piece.”

I’ve been reading Steam Laundry by Nicole Stellon O’Donnell, a living poet in Alaska, and I’m using lines from her collection today. Here are the original lines from the book:

Not the way I came (At Last an Invitation from Eldorado)

I thought of the egg (In the House of our New Marriage)

So we each took turns in the water (Tom and Elmer Dive for the Gun)

Some towns glitter (The New Camp)

When I lose myself (At Last an Invitation from Eldorado)

But here the sun spins around (Lost Luxury)

Here is my Antonymic Revelation Poem for today, and I’m grateful to Jennifer Jowett for inspiring us to write today.

Go on, Figure it out For Yourself

surely the way you stormed out

you did not consider the chicken

they didn’t brood-bathe in the dust

all farms lack luster

as you’ll discover for yourself ~

over yonder the moon hangs frozen

Celebrating Living Poets: A Culminating Cento Featuring A Line from Every Poet This Month ~ May the Circle Be Unbroken

Thank you to all of the organizers and technology friends at Slice of Life who give us this space to blog all during March and weekly throughout the year. So much would be missing without our writing community, and it takes dedication and commitment to continue the work. You are appreciated! A huge thanks to each slicer for teaching me new things all month and sharing in the writing journey. What a gift we have in our fellow writers.

If you ever go to The Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee, you’ll see a circle in the floor that was cut from the old original Grand Ole Opry when it was at the Ryman Theater down near Broadway and brought to the new Opry when it was built. It looks a lot like a vinyl record album. You can read about its history here. The theme song for years at the Opry, Will The Circle Be Unbroken, is made manifest in that circle where all the greats have stood, reaching into the hearts of their audiences and singing from deep within their souls. All songs, after all, are poems set to music.

You can see the circle in the floor on the stage of The Grand Ole Opry in Nashville, Tennessee. Click the link at the bottom of this post for the live video with the song!

My friend and fellow writer Barb Edler at Sitting Behind the Eight Ball planted a seed for how to conclude a month of celebrating living poets the day she wrote a spine poem using the titles of the books in my poetry stack from a picture I shared. Then, the seed idea sprouted in a Cento poem from Lauren Camp’s poetry on March 29. It was as if a poet was urging me to think of the center, the truth, the room and to let the vision be as large as creation.

And so today, to conclude The Slice of Life Challenge 2026, let’s gather around the great circular slice and stand together as we invite all of the Living Poets back for a line in the multi-voiced Cento poem that features each poet throughout the month. I have taken one line of each daily poem and combined them into a collective song – to call the spirits of our poetry ancestors, the poets of today, and the future generations of poets to keep writing. What would a world be without poetry, without song, without voice? I envision each poet stepping up to the microphone to say their line, then returning to their place in the circle.

May the Circle Be Unbroken

When the earth makes a particularly hard turn

I can’t sleep at night

Glazed eyes, I go into a poem

perched on the edge of euphoric plummet

Eyes up, Arms out

Lulled by the rhythm of pewter waves

whatever your name is, you are with your own kind

Listen closely and maybe you’ll realize – it isn’t your voice

allow that it’s supposed to be in bloom right now

beneath each human move

beneath this wing

A poem is a gesture toward home

Inside the case were all the photos

we rouse ghosts

wanting in

what’s left is footage: the hours before

My life is filled with the souls of women

There are parts of you that fade with time

women in rustling skirts, old men with walkers

people on the street

They say to stay strong

I am a fortress

Maybe the poem is a cry for help

A star shoots across the sky

A tricky riddle cleverly solved

for the nonbelievers

Yesterday, you constructed an aqueduct of dreams

Never forget that

let that vision be as large as creation

That that parade of it all might ignite me

Side note: Denise Krebs also wrote a Cento using a line of each of her Stafford Challenge poems from this month so hop over to Dare to Care to read hers as well. She, Barb Edler, and Glenda Funk are the others in a small group that meets once a month to write together. These ladies are not only writing friends, but also real friends I’ve met in person and who may know me better than those who sit feet from me at work every day. Truth.

Here is the poem as it looked when I used Cento sticks to arrange it, and the order of the sticks from the underside that tell the order of each poet who wrote each line in the photo beneath this one.

Here are the poems and poets from which each line was taken throughout the month, in this order that appears above (but not in date order 1-31):

The Song of the House in the House by Joy Hard

I Worry by Wendy Cope

How Nature Calls Me by Glenis Redmond

Midnight, Talking About our Exes by Ada Limon

Undivided Attention by Kate Baer

Back to School by Amy Nemecek

Goldenrod by Maggie Smith

Whose Hate did You Swallow by Victoria Hutchins

Brazen by Marcela Sunak

Showing Up by Naomi Shihab Nye

The Cashier at the Gas Station Asks Where I’m From by Joy Sullivan

Duplex by Jericho Brown

Salvage by Miranda Cowley Heller

Who We Gonna Call by Amanda Gorman

Noche, La Casa Mag de Lena, Lamy, New Mexico by Sandra Cisneros

Providence by Natasha Trethewey

Marriage of Friends by Hannah Rosenberg

Blue by Sophie Diener

Eclogue with Paris and Prayer by Chelsea Rathburn

The Order of the Day by Billy Collins

Stay Strong by David Gate

Virginity by David Elliott

Queries of Unrest by Clint Smith

Before by Brian Rohr

An Address I’ll Forget by Sarah Kay

The Dark Doorway by Lyndsay Rush

First Snow by Arthur Sze

What Not to Say to Your Students at the Juvenile Detention Center by Nicole Stellon O’Donnell

Fear Of by Lauren Camp

Taxi by Misha Collins

Finally, here is a video of the theme song sung during the 100th anniversary celebration. Click the link below the picture and sing along as we bid farewell to the 2026 Slice of Life Challenge and invite it to journey on in our daily lives….and to return in 2027 with more voices in this great circular Slice of Life.

Click Video Link Here: Live Celebration of Will the Circle Be Unbroken

For April, please consider coming to join us for VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com. The party starts tomorrow, and we will be writing a poem daily through the month. If committing to an entire month seems too much right now, perhaps you can come on weekends or a couple of days a week. We’d love to have you join us! As Denise Krebs shared today: I’ll be writing poems each day in April at Ethical ELA’s #Verselove. Maybe you’ll join Kim Johnson, Glenda Funk, Sharon Roy, Margaret Simon, Rita DiCarne, Erica Johnson, Barb Edler, me, and many others. No need to sign up. Just join us here: https://www.ethicalela.com/verselove/

Celebrating Living Poets: Sarah Kay

The first time I ever heard Sarah Kay perform “Hands,” I was speechless. She was young, polished, and profoundly moving in her delivery. She’s the living poet I’m celebrating today during the Slice of Life Challenge. Each poet’s collection has inspired me to take a selection of their existing lines and rearrange them, creating a Cento poem from their work.

Sarah quickly became a favorite, and one whose YouTube videos I share with my book club when I send out morning poems during National Poetry Month. Imagine my surprise when I learned that she was coming to Serenbe Pavilion in Chattahoochee Hills, Georgia this May! Serenbe is an hour from where I live – a Saturday night drive well worth the cost of a reserved seat. I can’t wait to hear her in person – I’m thinking of it as a small pre-retirement gift to myself to ignite the flame of all the poetry events I’ll finally be able to attend, even if they’re on weeknights. For today, I’m thumbing through A Little Daylight Left and indulging in the joy of her writing.

You can read more about Sarah Kay here; this link has her famous Ted Talk “If I Should Have a Daughter” embedded into the article with the interview.

My Cento:

I study the metronome of his breath

I am a snow globe of worry

So maybe this is a Magic Cat

A tricky riddle cleverly solved

We laugh & laugh & laugh

These lines were taken from the following poems, in this order:

An additional thought today:

When I woke up and read a post this morning from Peter at Five Hundred a Day, I realized that I, too, have been fishing for the place my words are looking for (don’t miss his blog post today – it’ll bring a tear or two or a Kleenex full). In 2025, a colleague and I started an office book club. Recently, she has become a Silent Book Club host, and we have both seen our husbands, infrequent readers prior to this additional club, show up and take ownership in “their” book club. It has been a blessing, and as our ladies’ book club meets for our discussions and adventures, our husbands will go have dinner and discussions of their own. I made a mental note: there is something to showing up without expectation to discuss a book that appeals to folks..

I share all of this to say that like Peter, I’ve been fishing for an in-person writing group in my town and nearby smaller towns, and I found the Silent Book Club equivalent in a group called Shut Up & Write (SUAW). Each writing group where I can share with others is so unique, but one type of group I don’t have in my life and desperately need is in-person. I applied and have apparently made the cut, was approved as an organizer, and will complete my onboarding training during Spring Break in a week and a half. I’m casting my reel out to ask if anyone has attended a Shut Up & Write event and to ask for your experiences. I’d love to get your thoughts.

Ollie eats good poetry; hence two of these books appear more loved on.

Celebrating Living Poets: Amanda Gorman

I was transfixed on the smiling poet delivering her poem with grace and poise at the Biden inauguration. Wearing a yellow coat, with red, she beamed and took the podium. When she spoke, I was speechless, mesmerized. Her name is Amanda Gorman, and her poetry is healing. Our nation needs a spoonful – perhaps a bottle full – of Amanda Gorman right now. You can read more about Amanda Gorman here and here. I’ve composed a Cento poem using Gorman’s lines from various poems, listed beneath the poem. Her words: Pay Attention. Learn from them. are words I will carry into the day.

We Rouse Ghosts

Even as we stand stone-still

we rouse ghosts ~

A grandma on a porch fingers her rosaries.

This truth, like the white-blown sky.

What endures isn’t always what escapes.

Pay attention.

Learn from them.

Taken from: The Shallows; Who We Gonna Call; The Miracle of Morning; & So; Cordage, or Atonement; Hephaestus; In the Deep

Celebrating Living Poets: Clint Smith

This is the tenth day of the 2026 Slice of Life Challenge, and we are 1/3 of the way through the month of March’s daily blogging challenge. I’m celebrating some of my favorite living poets this month by sharing a Cento poem I’ve created from one of their poetry collections. I was introduced to Clint Smith through a Book Love Summer Reading Club I participated in through Penny Kittle’s group several years ago when we all read Counting Descent. I hung on every.single.line and marveled in the raw truths of exposed feelings. With poetry this rich and moving, the way it made my soul quiver with such ability to see things more clearly, I could not understand why everyone wasn’t rushing to devour more poetry and make it a main course of their reading diets. I understood why all the holiest books of this world are all in verse. I love the way Clint Smith uses lower case letters in titles and lines, and how he takes a perspective of what was said by many voices to a black boy. He writes prose poetry beautifully, too. Here is a poet who will take a reader of other genres and make them a reader who craves more poetry.

You can read about Clint Smith here. He won the 2014 National Slam Championship, and if I were picking a poet to have lunch with, I’d want my table with Clint Smith.

Invisible

You are invisible until

long after the song has stopped

until there’s nothing left inside

those stained glass shadows

maybe the poem is a cry for help

Taken from: Ode to the only black kid in the class; When Maze and Franie Beverly Come on in my House; what the fire hydrant said to the black boy; what the cathedral said to the black boy; Queries of Unrest.

The first ten poets, in order from bottom to top
A sneak peek of the poets I’m reading the next ten days

Celebrating Living Poets: Maggie Smith

Welcome to Day 9 of the Slice of Life Challenge! I’m spending my month slicing about the living poets whose collections I enjoy reading – and using one of their collections to write Cento poetry, composed of existing lines reworked to form a new poem. Today, I’m sharing a Cento taken from the lines of poems in Maggie Smith’s collection entitled Goldenrod.

Maggie Smith appears in an interview here as a graduate of OSU.

Becoming

I am becoming my mother here

crossing a field, wading.

If you feel yourself receding, receding,

whatever your name is, you are with your own kind.

When are we most ourselves, and when the least?


My Cento poem features lines taken from these poems, in this order: Slipper, Threshold, Poem Beginning with a Retweet; Goldenrod; Ohio Cento.